Don't you love fall?

Someone I recently met asked me if I liked the Fall. And despite the fact that I live in part of the world where there is no fall to speak of, but only a time of year where the weather isn't very nice and the trees without grace, brilliance or ceremony lose their leaves, I love the Fall. Every time I even imagine "Fall" I can smell hot cinnamon-cake doughnuts, slightly rancid oil, crisp, tart cider and wet leaves. Simultaneously, I ache to visit the Franklin Cider Mill. There are no cider mills near my home in Texas. The closest is in Medina - which sits in the heart of the Texas Hill Country. If you've never been to the Hill County, it can be beautiful in it's own way, but it will simply never be a northern cider mill.

I haven't visited the Franklin Cider Mill in decades. My memories of that place are like most of my childhood memories - I have no idea where my parents were, yet I'm equally as certain that I didn't arrive at this location on my own. I remember being with my sister and brother. First, we read all the historic plaques that told of the original owners - settler's really. Then we watched the big red water wheel in the mill house tirelessly spinning and read listened to workers explain where the apples came from, and how the process hadn't changed in over 200 years. We listened to apples popping under the pressure of the press and the brown liquid ooze from between the huge plates into a vat below as the history lesson continued. The conveyor belt of doughnuts was the last stop before the counter and the marker between what separated the obligatory history lesson from the impractical doughnut binge we had earned by our visit. There, we bought an afternoon's supply of cold cider and oily cakes - leaving behind the candied apples for those more fortunate or less practical parents. I would take my small brown paper bag of greasy doughnuts to one of the large rocks that bounded the stream behind the mill and sit there, my feet wet, my rear end cold from the rock, and eat my treats while I watched fallen leaves float toward a new destination. Pure bliss!
And while I cannot visit the cider mill this year or any year in the foreseeable future, I manage to go there every fall no matter where I happen to be living. Just ask, "Do you like the fall?" and I'm there.