As a child I thought there was no such thing as a blue flower. Now my garden is full of spring blues in purple hues. Sometimes vivid childhood longings are triggered by a smell, a sound or a taste. Like peppermint tea reminding me of a burst blow-up toy in the children’s hospital ward. Or my apple blossom “perfume” factory which was perhaps my first entrepreneurial stint. Today, as I inspected the state of this year’s herbal endeavours, I caught a memory of the first time I harvested curly parsley with my Mum. She  never dissuaded me when I planted coffee grounds to grow her a coffee tree. Who cares whether she believed my curiosity would find a way, or whether she didn’t know better herself, I have that collection of scrapbook moments to harvest when the light is right.

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