a largish apple tree --> la tree --> It is an apple tree, with some
appropriate fruit hanging on its semi-bare branches. Some of its leaves have
fallen already, as is usual during the autumn. The tree has reached a stage of
less frequent growth spurts, but one day one might happen to realize it has
actually grown all the time, but so slowly and with the frequent visits it has
been unnoticed. This apple tree was planted by you in 915. You still remember
that summer and how young and foolish you were then.
You pick an apple. --> Ahh, the first apple of the year from your very own
tree. Or, not your own tree, but the tree you planted with your own little
hands. The tree is ownerless, a master of itself -- if that makes any sense.
You polish its cheeks, giving it a nice shine. Not as shiny as the very first
apple you picked, but close. You reminisce that moment for a bit, and let out
a sigh: 'To be young again...'
la apple --> It is a polished bright red apple. Looks more or less like any
other apple you've seen, apart from the great gloss it has. It has a special
feel to it, too, you just can't put your finger on what it actually is. The
apple is free of blemishes, of moderate size and its scent is divine. You
start salivating just from the thought of tasting it. It is still fresh, so
better enjoy it before it goes bad.