The time for wild apples is the last of October and the first of November. They then get to be palatable, for they ripen late, and they are still perhaps as beautiful as ever. I make a great account of these fruits, which the farmers do not think it worth the while to gather, —wild flavors of the Muse, vivacious and inspiriting. The farmer thinks that he has better in his barrels, but he is mistaken, unless he has a walker's appetite and imagination, neither of which can he have.
(Henry David Thoreau)
|Subject||2.7 × 2.7 cm, Aquarell|
|Paper||300g Water Color Paper|
|Dimensions||20 × 20 cm|