Grandpa Garden

Whenever I am thinking about my childhood the very first things that come to me is the memory of my grandfather garden. It was a big fruit garden, mainly Hesperidium such as tangerine, oranges, lemon, grapefruit and plus many other fruits like, peach, golden and green plums, grapes, berries, figs, pomegranates… The garden was my grand father’s passion he bought a piece of land when he was a young man and gradually planted different kind of trees there. He was a notary public who dedicated his spare time to gardening.

But as the garden got bigger and bigger he hired a gardener to take care of it. We used to call him uncle “Namdar”. I was always around him when he was digging beneath the trees and fertilizing the soil. He used to tell stories, sing a song or interpreting the political issues of those days (in Iran it is so common). I listened to him eagerly. I used to ask him about everything; for me he was a very wise man. :)
- “Uncle Namdar! If someone gives you a big fortune would you stop gardening?” I used to ask him passionately, ready for him to say of course not I love these trees.
- “Of course dear, why should I bother then to work so hard” made me feel totally disappointed. I was just a kid. :)

My all childhood is so enriched with the moments I spent in that beautiful big garden. I loved the garden; I knew every single inch of that place. I knew where the every single tree was located. I knew when the very first peach blossom prosper, where the sweetest tangerine can be found. I knew where the blood oranges are ready to be picked. My grand father used to ask me “Hiva, tell me now, are the tangerines sweet enough?”. God knew how proud I was thinking he reckons my knowledge. :) My uncle used to ask me every time we met how the birds, cockroaches, locust and crickets were while I was giggling.

Because of the garden there were always several guard dogs around. I loved them so much; there were kind of my best friends. They were not just dogs to me. I knew them; seriously! For me every of them had their own character: shy, rude, aggressive, and smart. Our house was located just nearby and there was a door from our yard to the garden. Everyday when I came back from the school the very first thing was to finished my homework as soon as possible and then call the dogs and patrolled the garden.

Spring time, the garden was fantastic. The sour orange trees, flourished. Their smell filled every where. I remember how my sister and I used to collect the blossom leafs and make perfumed necklace and bracelet. We collect a big plastic bag of there petals and my mother used to made delicious jam out of it.

There was a long and lonely cherry tree at one corner of the garden;. Spring time cherry’s blossom wraped the trees and after that, charming crimson cherries used to hanged from each branch; played hide and seek behind the green leaves. We knew the cherries should be picked as soon as possible before the crows finished them. Crows were the main rival. I remember every year we all gathered around the tree, my father climbed and picked the cherries and beneath my sisters and I were standing while our skirts was stretched to hunt the falling cherries. It was awesome..
Even now remembering those days carve a big smile on my face.

The Picture picked from here.