This past Thursday morning we ventured out into the countryside west of Portland, Ore., to pick some apples at a friend’s small orchard. While our little trek only took a few hours, it provided a pleasant sojourn into the sights, sounds and sensations of autumn outside of the city.

Our route took us along what had once been a rural highway connecting small farming communities of just a few thousand souls. My husband and I recalled fields where we had picked strawberries and corn which were now transformed into parking lots for supermarkets, big-box stores and strip malls. The suburbs now stretch for miles from Portland toward the Coast Range, but finally we turned off the thoroughfare and were immediately plunged into peaceful farmland at the far side of harvest time.

The morning was cool, slightly damp and with a thin overcast which showed signs of eventually burning off. Pockets of light fog hung in creek bottoms and depressions between the softly curving low hills. On either side of the section roads were acres of blueberry bushes, empty of fruit but still covered in flaming leaves of red and orange. Plots of Christmas trees, hay fields, vineyards and cane berries checkerboarded the view beyond, with already plowed-under sections giving off a scent of wet, rich earth.

Our final turn took us alongside a vineyard of pinot noir grapes, the deep purple-blue clusters suspended neatly beneath bright yellow leaves. A short time later we were reaching up into the limbs of Granny Smith, Fuji and Mutsui (a cross of Golden Delicious and Fuji) trees, gathering the fruit into baskets for use in pies and sauces. The quiet morning was periodically punctuated by the cawing of crows in the nearby woods and the percussive “Boom!” of shells used to scare the birds off of the grapes.

Before climbing back into the car for our drive back to town, I turned to gaze back once more over the vista of fields and forest, drawing in the scents of soil and smoke, leaves and ripened fruit. Long after our apples are consumed, I will remember this lovely, peaceful autumn morning.

— Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor