It Is Like
Nothing In Earth, Unless We Say That, Indescribable In Its Loveliness,
It Is Like All Other Sights In Nature Which Wake In Us A Sense Of The
Supernatural.
Undoubtedly the apple trees seem more beautiful to us than all other
blossoming trees, in all lands we have
Visited, just because it is so
common, so universal - I mean in this west country - so familiar a sight
to everyone from infancy, on which account it has more associations of
a tender and beautiful kind than the others. For however beautiful it
may be intrinsically, the greatest share of the charm is due to the
memories that have come to be part of and one with it - the forgotten
memories they may be called. For they mostly refer to a far period in
our lives, to our early years, to days and events that were happy and
sad. The events themselves have faded from the mind, but they
registered an emotion, cumulative in its effect, which endures and
revives from time to time and is that indefinable feeling, that tender
melancholy and "divine despair," and those idle tears of which the poet
says, "I know not what they mean," which gather to the eyes at the
sight of happy autumn fields and of all lovely natural sights familiar
from of old.
To-day, however, looking at the apple blooms, I find the most
beautifying associations and memories not in a far-off past, but in
visionary apple trees seen no longer ago than last autumn!
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