Apple blossom in my garden. A welcome promise of Autumn pies.
My grandfather who came from Somerset where the cider apples grow was a market gardener who had an orchard. Although he died when I was a baby I loved visiting my grandmother and climbing the trees. I remember my grandmother carefully laying out the apples in rows in the hayloft and selling them to passing motorists from her barn.
When we moved into our present house I was pleased to discover an apple tree in the garden. This week the branches are covered in blossom and I think this year we will be very glad to be able to pick the fruit. All we need is for flour to miraculously reappear in the shops.
A few raindrops make all the difference.