Last Apple Picking

The summer has flown by and fall is in the air. Picked the last of the Wolf River apples from the top of the tree. Even the Black Swallowtail butterfly with tattered wings stops to enjoy the last fruits of the season. I think the poem After Apple-Picking by Robert Frost and Genesis 1:29 sums it up.

After Apple-Picking by Robert Frost

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree 
Toward heaven still, 
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill 
Beside it, and there may be two or three 
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. 
But I am done with apple-picking now...

Then God Said, "I now give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the entire earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.
Genesis 1:29