Recalled From Sensing Things

A sensory experience has the power of recollecting our life, present or past. We recall past experiences by seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, and smelling things that surround us. Personally, I am easily stirred by things related to lemons. The taste and smell of lemons arouse my feeling for a certain part of my life.

Whenever a lemony aroma wafts through the air, I always conjure up an image of a lemon tree. In my backyard stands a lemon tree with glossy leaves, balmy flowers, and tangy fruits. Above the tree, the sun shines on the fruits so the scent of lemons lifts. Around the tree, a swarm of bees gather the nectar from the golden threads of lemon flowers. Under the tree, morning dew glazes a red wheelbarrow; the shovel digs out the earthy smell of the tree’s roots. The fragrance of the fresh lemons fills the whole yard until it creeps into the living room, the bed rooms, the dining room, and the kitchen－everywhere indoors.

The lemon tree serves as a fruit supplier and an indispensable companion for me. The tree looks different in different seasons. It grows yellow and bald in autumn; it turns green and lush in spring and summer. I, particularly, love that tree when summertime, the season of lemon harvest, arrives. With a pruning shear, I am always excited about nipping the golden fruits from the tree. Because of this full-bearing lemon tree, a smell of blending, of baking, even of burning lemons always breeze from my kitchen. Most of the time, I love desserts made of lemons like crunchy shortbread tartlets, polka-dotted with poppy seeds; lemon pound cakes enlivened with a splash of fresh ginger; and puffs of lemon mousse, sandwiched between wafers－I love that soft and melting texture so much! The lemon tree gives me not only pleasure of taste but also it keeps me company. I enjoy myself drawing and painting in the shade: the leaves of the tree move slightly in the wind against the sunlight. And the moving light mixes the colors on my work. The vacillation between the leaves and the light sometimes inspires me to create a fresh piece by tracing along the dotted light sprinkles.

The lemon tree is born from the soil; of course, it will eventually be summoned back to the earth. The tree has already been there for more than ten years. It feeds me with its fruits and accompanies me with its shade. Unfortunately, this tree, a victim of a colony of termites, is going to be chopped down in this coming November. On some day this November, I will have to wave goodbye to my dear plant－Lemmie, the tree. From that day on, NO MORE will I smell its lovely smell and taste its pulpy taste! I miss having that lemon tree as my constant companion.

Whenever I come across sensing the lemony senses, mostly taste and smell, I always think of that lemon tree standing in my backyard: Every time I smell the lemony aroma, I think of it; every time I taste cuisine spiced with lemons, I think of it; every time, perhaps, I hear a sawing sound, I think of it sadly.