The blossoms are in bloom here in Elliot Lake. They arrive a bit later than in some parts of Ontario. The blossoms of fruit trees and their scent take me back to my childhood and my parents. My first five years were on a fruit farm – after we moved, Dad had fruit trees on the property, which along with his roses, were his & Mom’s pride & joy.
Scents and colours can be primal memories, embedded so deep, we can not trace them to their root tips . The powerful emotions they call up are often detached from actual events. A lingering scent, a certain shade of colour, can call up the ghost of your former self, with all its happiness, longings, and through the long vista of time create a paradoxical sense of nearness & loss.
As I said, the blossoms arrive earlier in Southern Ontario – it was a May 24th weekend in 1998 when Mom went to join Dad, her sisters & parents. The blossoms were blooming and the scent hung in the air like a melody of song that my mother would sing – I’ll be With You in Apple Blossom Time, ………
…….. they are dancing & laughing
beneath the blossoming trees,
soft petals begin to fall gently,
pink tear drops midst smiles.