First Frost, Excerpts

First Frost, Excerpts

by Sarah Addison Allen

(First Frost)

“The day the (magic) tree bloomed in the fall, when its white apple blossoms fell and covered the ground like snow, it was tradition for the Waverleys to gather in the garden like survivors of some great catastrophe, hugging one another, laughing as they touched faces and arms, making sure they were all okay, grateful to have gotten through it.”

“A breeze flew through, picking up some leaves and swirling them around, the sound like fluttering pages in a quiet library.”

The town

a painted picture…

“It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon.”

The Waverley house

was filled with food…

They ate well into the afternoon,

and the more they ate, the more food there seemed to be.

Pretzel buns and cranberry cheese and walnuts appearing,

just when they thought they’d tasted everything.”

“The scent spread through the house like a long, soft blanket,

settling over everything, calming all worries.”

First Frost always marked the milestone that released the Waverleys from the summer’s calamities, catastrophes, and compulsivities.

First Frost tamed the whims of their mischievous apple tree.

(And she knew this year, Oh She Knew, as she knew every First Frost):

“She couldn’t change who she was,

and she no longer wanted to, even if she could.

She knew that who you are is a (Seed) set deep inside you.

You can spend all your life trying to dig that (Seed) out,


you can build around it.

(Nurture it,)

(And allow yourself to grow.)