Written from a rustic fabriced chair in an eclectic Tudor-style coffee shop. Across the street, Princeton University stands like a young fortress, the way that Cambridge may have looked in 1550. Classes start in 2 days and America’s smartest freshman scurry around clueless and bumping into things.
Outside, summer is seasoned to taste with autumn. Sunflowers still decorate boulevard medians and apples grow alongside gourds at Terhune Orchard, where I spent my morning. Patrons can clip their own flower bouquet, harvest pumpkins, and see a Christmas tree farm from afar. There, I felt like I was standing in three seasons at the same time, so I waved goodbye to the flowers, shrugged at the conifers, and picked 12 apples.
$5.00. I was greeted at the porch-register by a lazy dog, a friendly duck, and a very long haired cat. A gaggle of guinea hens, who looked like someone had smeared colgate on their faces, scurried like freshman through the dusty parking lot.
The orchard sells cider, but Starbucks does not yet sell Pumpkin Spiced Lattes. Therefore, it is not fall quite yet, so I didn’t buy a gourd.
>We have Pumpkin Spiced in Texas!! Why is New York depriving you so???!!!
>Oh. well then I want one. I havent gotten an email from Starbucks about it and I havent seen the posters up like they usually do.