Bright orange pumpkins lined the gravel drive. Rainbows of apples were stacked challenging any customer not to carry them home with a chubby pumpkin underarm. Parker’s Orchard fruit stand, located in the Brushy Mountains of North Carolina, is the quintessential Americana country shop.
The line is set. The distance between is precise. The inevitable push is lurking. Click, click, click, click, the porcelain rectangle hits the next, and the next, and the next. All the preparation has paid off. The line moved in tandem with my expectations. Click, click, click, one fell after the other as if passing a baton from one dedicated runner to the next.