I heard the florists behind me before I saw them, our florists on board are amazing – able to put through an order to any other ship in the fleet no questions asked, and moreover, able to turn the most common of things into the most amazing arrangements (I’ve seen them transform Vietnamese straw hats into decorative vases), but sometimes their most wonderful creations are their most simple.
I smelled the new arrangement before it was hefted onto the display space. You can’t mistake the smell of spring tulips, but there was something under that. I stared at the arrangement, trying to place it. The florist answered for me,
Tulips and apple blossoms
Even though the blossoms are not yet in bloom, that was what I was smelling.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and breathed in home.
Long ago, my Grandmother had apple trees. When I was a child I remember clambering up to the highest branches of the biggest tree to reach that last apple, I was always fighting to be a climber instead of a catcher (you have to throw the apples down to someone after all!) despite the fact that I’m sure my mother would have been happier to keep my feet firmly on the ground. Spring, for me, smelled like green apples and raspberries and was best viewed through a curtain of dappled green as I sat with a book and a stash of chocolate chip cookies on top of the garage roof.
My childhood, like so many, is shrouded in shadows, and as such it is the bright clear moments of happiness that stand out so starkly.
When my Grandmother moved away to live with my aunt, and therefore sold the house, we kept in close contact with the new owners for a surprising amount of time, to the point where they asked us if there was anything specific that we wanted them to leave unchanged (yes they asked, we did not), the one thing we requested was that they leave the apple trees…
Those of you who know me well, and there are more than a few of you who follow this who fit that category, know how ironic it is that they should choose now to place apple blossoms behind my desk.