Saturday Stories - Falling Blossoms 07-09-16

Where Diane grew up there were many fruit trees in the neighborhood and nobody minded if the kids helped themselves.  Old fashioned apples and cherries, pears and apricots thrived, along with every kind of berry and nut that would grow in western Oregon.  She was a tree climber and always thought the best fruit grew at the very top of the tree.  She missed her step once and fell from half way up the Queen Anne cherry tree and knocked the wind out of herself.  Scary, but not the only time. 

One memory she carries close to her heart is the huge cherry tree beside the bus stop.  It was a black cherry, maybe a Bing, but best of all it had millions of white blossoms which would fall like snow when the wind shook the branches.  The breeze would gather the petals into loops and swirls that drifted along the curbside and swarmed across the street.  It was almost better to miss the bus and be late to school, so she could watch the dancing petals.

The orchard lots are gone now and few of the fruit trees remain, they would probably be too old to bear fruit anyway.  But the memories remain. 

 

Almond blossoms along I-5 in central valley  2013