In this last post we talked about cider being the transformation of apple juice as opposed to it being just made from apple juice. A thing that is made must be made at a specific time while a transformation is a gradual, slow thing that takes place over time or indeed through time. Cider is a wee parcel of history, a thing from the past that becomes the present with each sip and vice versa, a link between two distant points in time. This one started off as a normal article then morphed into a poem, sorry.

The apple tree stands in sun, soil and rain.
A bridge between this Earth and the Sun,
feet anchored in soil with arms reaching up.

Sleeping through winter reborn with the spring,
The tree sets out stall for all the small things.
Festooned with hundreds of tiny blossoms
each with the makings of a fresh new life,
strands of DNA, every one unique.
With luck the strands meet in pollination
and the eventual fruit begins to grow,
cell by cell as summer ascends and falls

The tree that once was earth now turns to fruit,
By root, branch and sun, soil becoming sugar
Alchemy and transmogrification.
Ripe now, the apple falls down to the ground,
no longer fixed between earth and the sun.

The transformation continues, always.
The cidermaker now, in the autumn,
picks up the fruit, inspects and separates
One half goes back to the earth as pomace
the other imprisoned in oak and steel

The transformation continues, always.
The sugars, recently won, break apart.
What the sun has made, the yeast undo.
The sugars crumble to smaller parts,
the vapour escapes and leaves what remains,
caged in the liquid gathering in time.
Winters go past while memories fade
The transformation continues, always.

Until one day freed and raised in a glass,
the cider sipped the change complete,
resolution to warmth and enjoyment.
The present linked to the past, a moment shared.

The Earth, the Sun, the past, the present, the cider.
All for an inextricable instant, suspended.