In the summer that has just past, I treated myself to ten days walking on pilgrimage in the beautiful county of Herefordshire. Having lived in this area as a child and teenager and having family who continue to reside there, I look upon it as my home and am fortunate to now live in nearby Monmouthshire.
When I set out from Hereford on my first day’s walking (I started and ended at the city’s cathedral), I knew full well that I would pass through just some of the county’s numerous orchards, many of which are planted with cider apple trees. (In fact, about half of England’s total cider apple crop is produced here.)
Making my pilgrimage in July, the apples were still quite small on the boughs but, nevertheless, I found that I couldn’t resist taking photographs; the fruit looked so full of promise for an abundant harvest. Somehow, I wanted to capture just a little of the joy of walking through a Herefordshire orchard.
But near the town of Ledbury, famous for its ‘black and white’ market place and historic houses, I was perhaps a little surprised, but also delighted, to find myself visiting two of the churches that make up the Cider Benefice. Not content with being surrounded by orchards, the local places of worship are named for the area’s most well-known product.
In one of these churches, in the village of Wellington Heath, there is on display a quotation from Robert Frost’s poem After Apple-Picking in which the poet reflects on an, as yet, uncompleted harvest, in his case in New England. In spite of his weariness (I am done with apple-picking now) he must cherish in hand, lift down and not let fall each fruit or else it will be discarded. At Wellington Heath, these words are taken to illustrate ‘what we are trying to achieve in our local community’. Like precious apples on a tree, even though there are so many, each person is valued and significant and worthy of care and love.
The harvest of Herefordshire cider apples takes place in September and early October, alongside that of many other crops for which this very rural county is renowned. Naming your churches after an alcoholic beverage may not seem an obvious choice for some (and I was intrigued that the neighbouring villages are hop parishes) but what a wonderful celebration of the riches of God’s bounty in the fruits of the earth. And while, at this time of harvest, we can give thanks for apples and for the cider that is made from them, we also need to remember that each human life is also worthy of gathering in- to be cherished, lifted down and not let fall.
After Apple-Picking by Robert Frost can be found in full on the website of the Poetry Foundation.