It's becoming cliché for us, the picking of fruit on weekends (this time it was apples). But no matter how much I anticipate or think about it—the real magic occurs with that first juicy bite of autumn fruit. With glimpses of foliage in the distant fields. Candy apples. Cider donuts. Honey bees. Hay bales and tree houses. It's magic. Year after year, it's still magic. If that's cliché, then I'm a total victim. This weekend—apple crumble!