The orchard was planted in 1919 and when I was a child it was farmed by Graham Jackson, a third-generation apple grower. The orchard seemed like it had been there forever, the trees gnarled and aged and the apples huge and sweet and wonderfully juicy.
When my children were growing up we took them to Logan Brae so the family tradition continued, but after they left home I didn't go back for many years. Not so long ago my son took me back for a trip down memory lane.
The nursery has changed hands but stepping back into the old apple shed it seemed like time stood still and the smell of fresh apples still hung in the air.
As we sat looking out over the majestic views of the Kanimbla valley, munched our hot apple pies and savoured spiced apple juice, I realised that seeing it now through adult eyes hasn't diminished the magic.
They've managed to breathe new life into the orchard without changing it. There's something solid about that, as if the roots have run deep and the winds of change that have shaken so much of the rest of our world have not been able to move this timeless institution. It feels constant, stable and a piece of history that's survived the ravages of technology and the necessity to destroy in the name of progress. It's treasured and respected the past.
I'm delighted too that now I get to take my grandchildren to enjoy the simplicity of life I discovered as a child, the taste of apples fresh from the tree and the uniqueness of this beautiful corner of the world. It truly is a timeless piece of paradise.