Tom, Jeff, and I went down to the tidal basin to see the cherry blossoms today while they’re still in peak bloom.
It was a lovely day- sort of cloudy, but warm and breezy. The Yoshinos were of course beautiful- fluffy clouds of white and pink lining the basin all the way around to the Jefferson Memorial. But I found something that I was even more excited about- apple blossoms in the FDR Memorial.
Why is this so exciting? When I was a wee kidlet, my grandfather used to take my cousin, my brother, and me individually out into the woods near our house to a particular apple tree. He’d shake the branches and blossoms would fall like snow. We used them to make wreaths for my mother, aunt, and grandmother. They’d float the wreaths in bowls of water and the kitchen would smell like apple blossoms for days. I think we have a photo somewhere of Grandma wearing one on her head.
When I saw the tree, I knew it wasn’t a cherry blossom tree and suspected it was apple, but wasn’t sure until I smelled the flowers. For a second, I was 5 again.
Of course, I explained this to Jeff, and unsentimental bastard that he is, he asked me if it really happened or if it was something I had read in a Steinbeck novel.
“Shut up, it’s one of my most cherished childhood memories.”
“It’s just that it’s so cherishable that I wasn’t sure it was real.”
“Pbbbbt.”
