Pink Petals ~ Random Memory #18 ~ Iran

A beautiful spring day in Washington, D.C. and the sight of a child in her wondrous world of softly drifting petals recalled another spring, long ago.

Last night: It was late, my finger was poised over "shut down computer", but instead I clicked over to twitter and saw that little augury had a new blog post. It would have been so easy to miss. I have neglected both blogger and Flickr with summer activities which always proceed at a furious pace up here in Maine.

little augury with her agile mind, keen eye and crisp prose has awarded this newcomer in the blogisphere a "Beautiful Blogger Award." It comes with conditions and I need to give those some thought. I am stunned and touched and, for now, I will simply say "thank you." little augury, if I could, I would sprinkle pink petals over your beautiful blog. This post is for you.

Random Memory #18 ~ Iran

I have a memory of a day in the mountains, far outside the dust bowl of sprawling Tehran. There were many such excursions, but the beauty of that day of exploration surpasses them all.

Friday was our weekend and we always set off with friends to a new destination. We drove to small towns and villages, often over rutted tracks to seldom visited points of interest. We saw architectural gems and lovely traditional gardens. We strolled through bazaars and markets and our children ran and played with the local youngsters wherever we went. We brought baskets of food and packed a Coleman cooler and often shared our picnics with the villagers. They, in turn, offered tea and hospitality and gave the photographers in our group access to the flat roofs of their homes with views I will never forget. We were welcomed with humor, curiosity and affection. The women wondered why we were all so thin and had so few children...where was our gold jewelry....didn't our husbands like us? Our children were given candy and kisses. In return, we gave our hearts and I know I and all our friends still miss these lovely people.

But on that spring day in the mountains...sun so warm we didn't need a sweater...the sky was the color of turquoise. There was snow on the ground and the cherry trees were in bloom with their pink petals scattered on a white landscape. Pinpoints of light reflected off tiny shards of ice in the mountain stream. Although the scene remains a bright memory, some of the details are gone. I was so young and the young so often think there will be time to return....to see this sight again, but, of course, I never did.