"The Fatherland of Apples" - (aka the origins of a favourite fruit)

THE FRAGRANCE of the forest is unlike any I have ever known. The smell of ripening and rotting apples and pears fills my nostrils. At my feet, russet reds, blushing pinks, vibrant roses, and creamy yellows mottle the ground, where wildlife has half-consumed the wild fruit that makes this Kazakh forest so bountiful.

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