Candy apple red

It crackles: sweet, ruby red, and shellac smooth. When I was a little girl I wanted a candy apple red Corvette. One of the old models, with the sweeping lines and the chrome bumpers — not the modern ones so covered in plastic they look like sedans. I have no idea why I wanted a candy apple Corvette. I have a feeling I was influenced by Prince.

Candy apple red is a gorgeous color because it is transparent, like a gem. There is something of substance inside its candy coating: something to bite into, something sweet, but that grew from the earth; something wholesome that in the act of chewing it, will scrub your teeth clean of the sticky candy you crunched through to get to the red apple inside.

I don’t really care about candy apples to eat, but I sure do love to look at them. Maybe that’s what I liked about a candy red Corvette, too — it would be beautiful to look at. At the time I wasn’t old enough to drive; I wouldn’t have appreciated how much fun it would be to shift gears, push the pedal to the floor, and vroom.

I don’t have a candy apple red Corvette, and I don’t care about having one anymore. I do still love the color, though. And lucky for me, we now have a candy apple red canoe. It won’t be fast and loud, like a Corvette.

It will be and smooth and silent, and built with my husband and children’s hands.

Our canoe — almost ready, just needs seats

Red canoe built by husband and kids

I’m ready to paddle this.

Here’s a post of the canoe in progress.