Apricot Tree

I couldn\’t tell you exactly when it was, what I was wearing, why I was there, my exact age (perhaps around 11, I think) or the season. What I can tell you, however, was that until then, I had never seen such a beautiful site.Trees with such green leaves and such bright fruit and ground that matched. What this all was, I did not know so I asked my father who blankly he told me they were apricot trees which lined the property of the old woman we were visiting. When I asked what one did with apricots, he told me you just ate them, like a peach. He didn\’t think anything of it, but I did.He left me outside while he went in to discuss business with the woman. As soon as he was out of site I ran towards one of the prettiest trees and stood there for a moment – a little unsure, a little excited – and then I reached up on my tiptoes to pick an apricot.It was love at first bite.I laid myself down on the ground, surrounded by apricots and stared straight up into the tree, looking at its fruit and sometimes past it to the clear blue sky. I would put my arm out and search blindly for fruit on the ground (there was so many, it was an easy search) and for the next hour I did nothing but eat apricots and in between say, \”I love you, I love you\” to the tree.The next thing I remember was my father coming to collect me and waking me up from my surgery slumber. As we walked the long drive back to the car I kept turning around to look at the tree to see if it would wave goodbye. To see if it would miss me as much as I would miss it.I think it did.