It's gone.
The Granville Orchard rests quietly off Rt. 37, south of Granville, where the flat plains of central Ohio slowly reach out to greet Appalachia. Between the country setting and the appearance of the Orchard store front, your expectations rise quickly, in anticipation of the various country items awaiting your discovery inside.
Immediately through the door, however, I realized that all orchards, or at least their store fronts, are not created equally! Looking forward into the store, I could see several bags of apples, waiting patiently for pickup, resting in the traditional white, square paper bags, with Apple Ohio graphics on the side and a little white paper carrying handle arching across the top. A quick look to the right of the store front revealed a lot of empty shop space. To the left, more apples, consuming much of the store front. Round the cash register sat an assortment of home made pies, apple cobler on the top shelf and cherry in the middle, topped with a golden brown lattace worked crust, each pattern unique from the cherry pie beside it, the edges of the lattace stained with cherry that bubbled up in the empty spaces in-between as they baked, probably just the evening prior.
Absent were the walls of special items, that were always stacked high on the shelves at Lawrence Orchards, in Marion, Ohio, where I grew up. There were no candied apples, no pints of cider, things that I could afford at the age of 11, in 1973, things that my peers and I enjoyed as young adults, stopping at Lawrence Orchards. There was no farmers clover honey, no home made apple butter, just apples and peaches, and that wonderful assortment of homemade pies.
As I carved off pieces of apple on the way home, without commitment and traveling at a casual speed, with my right hand resting on the bottom of the steering wheel and my left resting outside the car, on the rear view mirror mounted on the driver's door, my mind went back to the mid-70's, where simple things like candied apples or a pint of cold cider could make a young person happy. It occurred to me that we are all tremendously unique, the collection of experiences that we had may never recur for another person, based on the tremendous number of factors that created both us and the world we knew and lived in at that time in history. It's gone now, like the water under the bridge, and just as the Grandville Orchard is very good, it can not go back in time, and take me along with it, to restore the more simple, less worrisome times, or fill the shelves with non-fda approved items that no one thought twice about eating in 1975.