Oak Apple DAY

Would a newcomer put a halt to the annual village celebrations?

- Sarah Swatridge

Tess sat at her kitchen table surrounded by friends. They were busy planning this year’s annual Oak Apple celebrations.

‘I love your poster,’ said Martina, Tess’ new neighbour. ‘Your photo of the oak looks great. Why can’t I take good pictures like that?’

‘I had to go out early one morning to get the right light,’ Tess replied, then frowned.

“What's up?”

‘Well, I'd forgotten about it until now, but there was a man with a clipboard and thick glasses snooping around. I had to ask him to move away from the tree because I didn’t want him in the picture.’

‘So, what did he want?’

‘I didn’t ask,’ Tess admitted. ‘I just wanted to get my photos before it clouded over. Once he’d moved away, I forgot all about him.’

There was a discussion about Clipboard Man but no one else had seen him.

‘Oak Apple Day sounds fun, but what's it all about?’ asked Martina.

‘It dates back to May 1660, when the English monarchy was restored. Charles II escaped capture in 1651 after hiding in an oak tree. Nowadays, we have a fete on the green. The schoolchildren do maypole dancing, we have old-fashioned games like a coconut shy, but also a bouncy castle. There’s a tea and cake stall, as well as a bar and live music.’

‘And that’s at the end of May?’ asked the neighbour.

‘Yes, it usually falls in Whitsun week when the children are off school,’ Tess explained. ‘Most people in the village put up bunting and many of us wear a badge made of oak leaves.’

Tess could see her neighbour's eyes glaze over. ‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to get involved. But your kids will make oak badges at school, and at Brownies or Scouts.’ Tess always loved this time of year. The whole village pulled together and, most of the time, they were lucky with the weather.