Springtime. Blossoms abound. In particular, the fruit tree blossoms, beginning with the almond. When that comes into flower late in winter, I begin to revive again from the cold, knowing that soon I shall feel the warmth of the sun again. My hope blooms. The fruit tree flowers also herald the start of the formation of fruit, and in my mind I can taste again the sweetness of a ripe juicy peach, or the explosion of flavour from an apricot.
Now only those who have tasted real fruit will understand what I am talking about. Most modern fruit is tasteless. Even that which is homegrown is tasteless if it comes from a variety selected for it’s commercial reasons, rather than it’s flavour. I recall in particular an elderly gardener who was removing a peach tree from her garden because the fruit was as tasteless as cardboard, and with similar texture. It was a modern variety, promoted by the nursery trade, and she, like many others, unsuspectingly fell into the trap. It is a rare, specialist nursery nowadays that sells decent fruit trees. The majority sell lines bred for the commercial sector, hardly a recommendation for flavoursome fruit judging from what is available through retail outlets.
Now how can a person who has never tasted anything even half decent know that there is a better way? How many people these days, particularly younger ones, dislike eating fruit, despite the urgings of health professionals? The only way they eat fruit is when it has been processed and loaded with sugar, and this is definitely not beneficial to good health.
I was fortunate in growing up with fruit trees in the backyard, in having excursions to pick wild blackberries and having friends in similar situations. One friend had the most magnificent peach tree, and I must confess, it was a major factor in our teenage friendship! I know what real fruit tastes like, and I mourn for it. However, when I find a roadside seedling along a disused track I leap for joy. There is always the chance it will turn out to be ambrosia. I can but hope.
It is springtime.