Look how the surface has puckered into craters like galaxies, creases like rivers and swirls like the Milky Way. Marvel how it has bronzed and weathered as it overwintered on the tree. Gaze at the delicate powdery dusting of moulds that landed by chance, enticed to bloom by the sugars and alcohols oozing through pores in the wrinkled skin.
Remember the blush of the new summer fruit way back last year when the heat of the sun was at your back. Wonder at the cycle of life that has left this lone apple still clinging on after winter snows have come and gone.
Be glad that you left it on the tree instead of plucking it and denying nature a chance to complete its natural course.
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