Memories that anchor

‘Autumn Light’ Acrylic on Paper, 04/09/24

My parents live in a red brick 1930s house called Rostan. The house was the first house to be built in that particular area and it sat in an orchard. The orchard is almost entirely gone, given over to housing, and all that survives is a single ancient pear tree and small section of mound and ditch. The tree remains central in the garden and is tall and grand like no other in the surrounding gardens. It produces fruit almost every year and the pears are nothing like those found in the supermarket. These pears are a reddish-gold in colouring and have a slight rough skin, they are, however, incredibly sweet. I have many memories of my father collecting hundreds of pears, stacking them in the greenhouse and then crushing them and making homemade wine in the kitchen with my mother. Demijohns  and vats and plastic tubes and fermenting fruit sitting in tubs for weeks. There’s something about nostalgia and memories that remind us of the simple joys of life. These things remind us of better times, of easier times perhaps, or maybe not so, but at least times which remind us of what was and can still be. Happy times remind us that even in the drudgery of life there is more to be had, known and experienced. You may not be able to go backwards, but you can look forwards. When you can look into the heavens, the plants and animals, the simplest thing of a pear in the tree, a flower in the garden, a reminder that God made all things good, and somehow, there can be goodness again. Some of the fruit would lay in the garden, on the lawn and patio, rotting. Everyday more fell to the ground, hundreds of pears during harvest, too many to clear. Yet, the most wonderful thing from the rotting fruit that couldn’t be cleared fast enough, was the surprise appearance of butterflies. Many, many butterflies, all over the garden, resting on the fruit and feeding off the pears. This is essentially a reminder to myself, to look backwards during difficult times, for who I am, where I am from, what I have seen, in the beauty of a joyful, simple memory is the reassurance and beauty and hope of a future looking forwards. Like the butterflies that emerged from their chrysalis, there is nourishment and supply for our needs.