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I recently attended a Celebration of Life for a very special person. She enriched the lives of many children, including my own. As their kindergarten and first grade teacher, Ti was the perfect mix of sweetness, discipline, and fun. I began teaching Art as a volunteer in the Yosemite Valley Elementary School when my kids began their school careers. A project inspired by Ti stands out these many years later. It revolved around the pioneer apple orchards in Yosemite. The apples ripened in fall, and the kindergarten/first grade made a field trip to James Lamon’s Orchard every September. Planted in the 1850’s, it was one of the many orchards frequented by the Valley children for generations.  Others were by the chapel, and around our house in the Old Village, planted by my Great Grandfather, John Degnan, at Camp Curry, and by Rocky Point picnic area. The day at the orchard picnicking, playing tag, and collecting apples, was the culmination of a week of study about the orchards, the varieties of apples, and the natural history of the apple tree. The Apple Book was a handmadebook filled with the drawings and sentiments of the 20 or so students of the 1996 Kindergarten/1^st grade class of Yosemite Valley Elementary School.

Apple Blossom Time

Apples played an important role in Pioneer America. Yosemite, where my family settled in the 19^th Century, was very isolated, especially in winter. My grandparents told me they ordered their bare root apple trees from “Monkey Wards” catalog (Montgomery Wards). That and Sears Roebuck catalog, saw many pioneer families through various needs. The trees were planted and carefully tended. Pies, cider, jelly, and numerous other dishes were gleaned from the apples. They were stored in a root cellar and used throughout the long winter. Apples were a mainstay, not a frivolity.

The Yosemite Apple Trees are important to me as a descendent of those pioneers. Growing up in Yosemite we continued the tradition of gathering apples in fall. Our Grandpa loved to make pies and jelly, and used all the apples we brought him. Wood smoke, coffee on a crisp morning, and the smell of pies baking, heavy on the cinnamon, encapsulates all that is good about the season. Although my grandpa is gone, I have his pie recipe, and my children collected apples from those very same trees.

The painting “Apple Blossom Time”, is one of my favorite paintings. Its success is in the expression of uninhibited joy, the promise of spring, the sunlight and colors, and the freedom of childhood.