Pippin — a community orchard of ninety trees, and anyone can pick

What grows here

Seventy apples and twenty pears, eleven varieties. The labels on the trees were renewed last spring; the map is on the gate.

Ripe red apples on a branch among green leaves.

Laxton's Superb

Rows one to three. Sweet, ready in late September.

Two red apples hanging low over long grass.

Bramley

Row four. For cooking; one makes a crumble.

Small brown pears hanging on a tree in a sunny orchard.

Conference pears

Along the fence. Pick hard, ripen on the windowsill.

Sunlight through an apple tree full of small red fruit.

Egremont Russet

The two old trees by the shed. Nutty, rough skin, October.

Pressing day

The second Saturday in October, ten till four. Bring apples from the orchard or your own garden, and a clean bottle. We bring two presses, a scratter and a lot of people who know how to use them.

Juice is free. Anything left over goes to the school kitchen on Monday.

What to bring

Wooden crates full of red apples lined up between rows of trees.

A hand holding out a single red apple in a blurred green orchard.

Before you pick

Take what you'll eat

A bag, not a boot-full. There are ninety trees and a lot of neighbours.

Twist, don't pull

Lift the apple and turn it. If it doesn't come away, it isn't ready — leave it for next week.

No ladders, ever

The top of the tree is for the birds and for pressing day, when we bring the long pickers.

Windfalls are welcome

Bruised ones are perfect for juice. Leave rotten ones on the ground; the blackbirds want them.

Helping

A cluster of red apples against a bright blue sky.

Winter pruning

January Saturdays. We teach you.

A neat row of young fruit trees on mown grass.

Mowing the paths

Once a month, April to September.

A weathered wooden crate full of red apples in the shade.

Pressing day crew

Setting up at nine, washing down at four.

Ninety old apple trees, and anyone who lives near them can pick