Last weeks glean was a quickie but a goodie.
The member turnout was sparse but more than enough, with most of our volunteers being freshmen.
We headed off the Flo Mo apple tree first thing, while the other group hunted down some quince.
The apples were crispy ripe and bountiful, leaping from the branches at the slightest nudge and waiting for us in heaps at the trunk of the tree.
Although they were mostly small, they built up to a few hefty sacks in no time at all.
Behind the grove we scavenged the fruits of a pomegranate tree that sagged under the weight of its bulging branches.
We quickly filled some sacks, but in the meantime we couldn’t resist a sampling of the bloody fruit, and soon enough red splatters covered had stained our clothes while the gorey juices ran down our lips and forearms.
For the lack of variety that we encountered, our final fruit count was enormous, and another fruitful glean behind us.
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