The North Wind doth blow
And we shall have snow
And what shall poor Robin do then, poor thing?
One of my neighbours has an apple tree. Every Autumn the apples fall and lie uncollected and I think what a shame it is not to make use of them. Since the snow has fallen, though, I’ve begun to have second thoughts. Every day positive flocks of birds – blackbirds, thrushes and assorted small songbirds congregate to eat the apples. There are so many they’ve even attracted a small hawk of some description, leading to a few spectacular mid-air dogfights. In time, the birds will digest the apples, excrete the pips and – where they fall – new trees will grow. And so it starts again.
I suppose this is actually – unless you take a severely anthropocentric view of things – what fruit is for.
Blackbird with Apple
The Crimson Rambler 