There is a popular variety of amaryllis named ‘Apple Blossom’ whose name suddenly makes complete sense, as these photos reminded me instantly of that holiday staple. I prefer the real deal, in form, fragrance, and blossom time, so here is an ornamental apple tree at the height of its May bloom. When seeking out an appropriate musical accompaniment, I found this romantic ditty, redolent of spring and love and freshness.
Ornamental apple trees and their sweetly-scented flowers inspire an indulgence of nostalgia, bringing me back to childhood, when I’d attend my brother’s baseball games. I wanted nothing to do with baseball – I was much more interested in walking the woodsy paths surrounding certain baseball fields – so once the game was underway I’d make my exit and sneak into the woods, the chants of ‘no hitter, can’t hit’ fading into the distance. It was like closing a curtain of foliage behind me and entering another realm.
Embracing the quiet and solitude, I studied the plants and trees and life around me. The rustling of a squirrel or chipmunk reminded me I wasn’t ever totally alone, and if I was especially lucky the gurgling of a stream would provide the only soundtrack I needed. It was a treat to come upon water like that, both for its beauty and tranquility as much for the additional wildlife it often afforded. Being land-locked for the first part of my life left me ever-hungry for water in whatever fashion it appeared; oceans, lakes, streams, rivers, ponds, and pools all fascinated me, and the sound of water was some mystical siren’s call.
At this time of the year, all the forest seemed to join in the spring celebration, the ephemerals like Trillium and Bloodroot nodded in the slightest breeze, while in the air the branches of crabapples and other fruit trees were covered in perfumed blooms. I remember climbing into the branches of one of the larger crabapple trees, risking the buzzing of bees to be surrounded by the sweet blossoms, and listening to the muted shouts of a baseball game coming from another world. Birdsong took over, joining the happy humming of the bees, and the moment remains embedded in memory as a brush with the sublime.
