The Ghost of Apple Day: Pippin’s Legacy

In the heart of Cromford, Derbyshire, there is a festival that locals look forward to every year—Apple Day. For generations, the festival has celebrated the harvest of the orchards, bringing the community together to honor the apple, the lifeblood of the village. But few know the story of Pippin, the man whose love for the festival was so strong, it transcended death itself.

Pippin had always been a quiet but devoted figure in Cromford. As a young boy, he worked alongside his father in the orchards, learning the art of cultivating apples. His passion for the trees and their fruit grew with each passing year, and when he inherited the orchards, he took on the role of leading the village’s annual Apple Day festivities. Under his care, the event became more than just a festival—it became a cherished tradition that celebrated the village’s history, community, and love of the land.

Pippin’s dedication to Apple Day was unmatched. He would spend months preparing, tending to each apple tree with the utmost care. He knew every tree by heart, every branch, every fruit. By the time the festival arrived each year, the orchards were bursting with apples, their vibrant colors reflecting the joy Pippin felt for the event. His pride was evident in every detail, from the perfectly placed baskets of apples to the way the festival was organized, ensuring that everyone in the village could enjoy the fruits of their labor.

But as the years passed, Pippin’s health began to wane. The long hours in the orchard took their toll, and one year, as the festival approached, he fell gravely ill. Despite his weakening condition, Pippin continued to work, determined to ensure the festival would be a success. However, just days before Apple Day, Pippin succumbed to his illness, leaving the village in mourning.

The festival went on without him, but something felt different. The air was heavier, and the apples didn’t shine quite as brightly. The villagers whispered about how Apple Day would never be the same without Pippin’s guiding hand. Little did they know, Pippin’s presence hadn’t left the orchards at all.

That year, as the festival drew to a close, a strange figure was spotted wandering among the trees. It was a wooden figure, lifelike yet otherworldly, holding a single, gleaming red apple. Some said it was a trick of the light, others claimed it was a prank. But the elders knew the truth. Pippin’s spirit had returned to the orchards, unable to leave behind the tradition he had nurtured for so many years.

Each year since, Pippin’s wooden ghost has appeared on Apple Day, silently watching over the festival. His form is carved from the very wood of the trees he once tended, his skin rough like bark and his eyes deep hollows, dark yet kind. In his hands, he carries a single apple, perfect and red, a symbol of the harvest he loved so dearly. The villagers know that as long as Pippin appears, the apples will be plentiful, and the festival will thrive.

Though he can no longer speak, Pippin’s presence is a comforting one. He ensures that the apples ripen in time for the festival, that the trees remain healthy, and that the community’s bond to the land endures. On quiet nights, when the festival has ended and the villagers have returned to their homes, some say they can hear the soft rustle of leaves and the faint creak of wood as Pippin makes his rounds through the orchard, tending to the trees just as he did in life.

His story has become a part of the festival’s lore, passed down through generations. Children grow up hearing about Pippin, the ghost of Apple Day, and many make the trip to the orchards each year, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wooden figure among the trees. For the villagers of Cromford, Pippin is more than just a ghost—he is the spirit of the harvest itself, a reminder of the love and care that goes into every apple they pick.

And so, each year on Apple Day, the villagers gather not just to celebrate the apples, but to honor Pippin’s memory, knowing that as long as the festival continues, so too will Pippin’s watchful spirit.