As Sunday sunshine spilled lazily through the trees and golden leaves spiralled slowly to the ground, John and I celebrated the glory of apples.
We picked them, we played with them, and we photographed them. We rolled them through the grass. We marvelled at the smoothness and redness of their skin and as I shook the fruits from the tree John sank his new little teeth into their sweet and juicy flesh.
In some ways it was just a perfectly normal Sunday afternoon, but at the same time it was just perfect.