Fall Apples by Henri FlikierAudio version <a href="http://ripr.org/post/i-believe-fall-apples"target="_blank">www.ripr.org</a>I do not like September, and the abrupt end of summer; as I lament the shorter days and colder nights; the garden and the Red Sox wilt away. September…Time to put the kayak and beach umbrella away; time for school to start, with multiple trips to Staples, overscheduled extracurricular activities, meetings and commitments. At home; arguments over homework, bedtime and a messy bathroom resume. By September’s end, the fatigue of early seasonal affective disorder engulfs me. Just when I feel it may last until the first crocuses; something magical happens to rescue me… the arrival of the first Macoun apples. Macoun can be pronounced McCowan but I prefer the French sounding Macoon. Every year, during the last week of September, I take my first bite of this crisp, aromatic, juicy, tart yet sweet apple. I am mindful of its snow white flesh and its vermillion skin as each bite brings a new taste sensation such as a hint of berry. A Macoun is not God’s creation but was developed in Geneva, New York, by a Canadian grower named W.T Macoun, in 1923. Nevertheless, my first bite of this succulent creation is a near spiritual experience. It is wonderful all by itself but divine with cheese, sourdough bread and red wine. A Macoun is the extraordinary result of combining two good but not exceptional apples; the McIntosh and the JerseyBlack. Like perfect babies of flawed, average and aging parents; One plus One is better than Two.And then it’s….October. Fall is not so bad after all. The sky is a brilliant blue during the day and full of stars at night. New England foliage is one of the world’s true wonders and sometimes the Sox even win the World Series! The Macoun season is short and in a few weeks, this once remarkable fruit loses its crispness and sweetness. Year after year I go through the same internal process. The arrival of the Macoun apple reminds me that there is good even in what I perceive as negative and that one has to find and hold on to the good even in bad times. This I believe. In my work as a psychotherapist, I try to do that with clients I may find challenging or unmotivated. If I can find the good and hold on, it will work out. I believe that the purpose of the Macoun is to remind me of the miracle of seasons and to be grateful for it. Like in the biblical text dating back to King Solomon, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven” I will bite (a Macoun) to that!