The Beautiful Farmgirl of Sweet Apple Acres
She could feel the breeze pushing gently across her face, the cool caress of the evening air bringing her to life. Her mane fluttered behind her as she ran, no band or ribbon to tie it down. She felt free out here, out in the wildlands of the country that she called home. All around her were mountains and valleys and forests and rivers and lakes of all shapes and sizes, calling out to the young mare that dashed across the plains. For at this moment, all that could be seen belonged to her and all that was hers was waiting to be discovered.
She came to a halt atop a grassy hill that bore an apple tree, the red fruit dangling from the branches above, so tantalizingly fresh and perfect to the pony who gazed from below. All it would take was one good bucking and the entire tree would rain crimson goodness that would be enough to feed an entire family.
A sound crept towards her, a sound far different from the cries of the birds and beasts that called the land home. A voice of a strong and sturdy stallion reached her ears, and she looked down the hill at a great expanse: a vast apple orchard filled with apples of every kind, and far in the distance a barn and farmhouse could be seen, a thin trail of smoke ascending to signal the advent of a well-cooked meal. But down at the foot of the hill was the one that had called for her. A broad-shouldered stallion the color of a bright red apple stood waiting at the foot of the hill, beckoning to her. Nearby was another strong stallion that stood even taller than his father, carrying a heavy load of fruit-laden baskets across his back, while a bright-bowed filly hopped about next to him, her cheerful voice audible even at this distance. And there, out in the orchard just out of sight, the sounds of laughter and good cheer could be heard from what could only be her dearest and closest friends.
She felt a smile creep across her features in a way no smile had in years. This was the world she had worked so hard for, driven and ached and pained for. After all the long days and sleepless nights, the fraught worries and silent wishes, this was the result. Was it not everything she had longed for? She felt so at peace, so perfectly content that her heart might burst. Why worry, she asked no one in particular. For she had found perfection at last, and nothing could take away what she had earned. As she walked down the hillside to her waiting family, she gleamed all the more brightly. Her birthright was here at least, a dream almost too good to be true.
A dream. It was as if a spell that had been silently cast was suddenly broken. The ground before her began to distort and fade into shadow as her subconscious began to lose hold on its fabricated reality. Try as she might, she could feel the difference now: the absent breeze, the heavy warmth of sheets pressing against her sides, the sounds of nature being replaced by the sound of a rooster’s crow. Her eyes still focused on brightly-colored stallion, her thoughts roused themselves and she came to an immediate conclusion. “This is a dream,” she muttered groggily and all disappeared to blackness as she woke.
The rooster’s cry echoed through her bedroom once more, the first glimpse of Celestia’s sun coming from behind the hill. Applejack’s mane was tussled from her nightly tossing and turning and she could feel taught tangles pulling against her head. Maybe a quick soaking from the rain barrel would do her some good. She certainly felt groggy enough to need it. After the rooster’s third cry she could bare it no more. “Ah’m coming, Ah’m coming,” she grumbled as she slid from beneath her sheets. “Keep your shirt on, you fussy pile of feathers.”
Halfway down the stairs she met Big Mac, his face bearing the standard expression she had come to expect from him for so long- relaxed. “Mornin’,” he muttered as she came up beside him.
“Mornin’, Big Mac,” Applejack yawned, grabbing her Stetson from the hat rack that stood next to the front door. “Yuh… You sleep well?”
“Eeyup,” he replied.
“Well, that’s certainly good to hear. Let’s see what Granny Smith’s got cooked up for us this morning.” She could already smell the appetizing scents of her favorite meal and she wasn’t disappointed: honeyed apple slices across buttermilk biscuits with gravy and buckwheat pancakes dotted with apple slices and slathered with syrup. Applejack could feel her stomach come alive at the sight and in no time at all she was hastily devouring her breakfast. A few minutes later and the dishes were placed in the sink for cleaning. As she had grown older, the family had decided that chore could be entrusted to Apple Bloom so Granny Smith could focus on more important things.
Speaking of Granny Smith… “Morning, Granny,” Applejack murmured as she walked out onto the front porch, finding the elderly patriarch of the Apple clan resting in a weather-beaten rocking chair that had been part of the family since their move to what would become Ponyville.
“Morning, children, hope y’all enjoyed yer breakfast,” she said, staring out into the orchards.
“Delicious as per usual, Granny,” Applejack said reassuringly. “So, tell us- what kinda weather are we gonna have today?”
“Look and see for yerself, young’un,” Granny replied. “No red skies, no clouds, nothing ‘tall. Be ready fer a hot one, you two. I’ll send Apple Bloom out about noon with something to eat, ya hear?”
“Thanks, Granny!” Applejack called over her shoulder, heading down the steps alongside her big brother to the barn to grab their supplies.
“We should head on over to the north orchard today, we haven’t touched them trees in a while,” Applejack said aloud as she pushed the last of the buckets into the back of their cart. “If we let them go for too much longer they’ll either attract the vampire fruit bats or they’ll just up and rot. Either way, won’t be any good to us.”
“Eeyup,” her brother replied, having finally hitched himself to the cart.
“You ready, Big Mac?” she asked. As he nodded, she said with a lively determination, “Alright, let’s get to work.”
