A hawk scans the fields near a lonely country church that sits on a farm five minutes from my house.
The church is flanked on one side by a small apple orchard.
It’s Victoria Day and the weekend that I long for my Nanny Ekstrom.
The apple blossoms are in full bloom.
The scent of her Avon apple blossom fragrance filled my childhood.
As apple blossom petals floated in the morning breeze, I wished she was with me.
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