Another fragrant year for dad's orchard
A few clouds floated lethargically above the sky on a vernal Sunday in spring. I was sitting by the window when the balmy breeze blew in. I felt dull and sluggish as I worked to reorient myself. Suddenly, I inadvertently grabbed a freshly-pick waxberry on a plate to my mouth. I took a small bite; the flesh texture of tenderness in my mouth and the sweet-tart flavour instantly woke up my body and lifted my spirits. Food is inextricably associated with flavour and is fundamentally about nostalgia and memory. These distinctive seasonal flavours hitherto have etched on my mind, offering a window into knowing my father's world into the bargain.
