1990, seems like a world away
My mom bought some passion fruit juice, I think it was on sale. I poured myself a glass, not fully remembering if I'd ever had passion fruit juice, or what it really tasted like. As I took a drink of it, a flood of sensation and memory washed over me.
Suddenly I was reminded of being in Hawaii. I was only five or six when we went there on vacation, but I remember a lot about that place. I'd forgotten I'd even eaten passion fruit there, but the flavor brought back so many feelings and memories of that place that I'd forgotten were there.
I remember walking through a massive flower garden, I think the sky was overcast, a storm that was so close to breaking but held off for a while. The air was filled with the fragrance of those flowers, such a wide, colorful, vibrant variety of them. It seemed that everywhere smelled of flowers, even outside of the garden. Every breeze carried a hint of the heady aroma of that island's flowering plants. I remember there was one flower in particular, to this day I don't know what it was called. It appeared modest enough, simple white pedals, sets of five if I remember right. This flower had the sweetest, most delicate scent. A rose is still my favorite flower, I've had more time to grow a fondness for it, but this flower had one of the most amazing fragrances.
I remember we sampled so many tropical fruits while we were there. There was a banana tree right outside of our hotel room, we could see it from our balcony. We still have a picture of my brother, my sister, and I all standing on that balcony, holding up bananas. There was a beach there, pitch black, the whole thing was nothing but obsidian sand. We saw a recent lava flow, covering the road, invading someone's house. They'd already evacuated, standing outside, watching as the palm tree in their front lawn caught fire and fell over. We walked through a beautiful forest where there was a tree that fascinated me. It looked like wooden muscle, the whole tree was actually a formation of many little trunks, weaving in and out of eachother, branching out overhead.
All of these memories rush back to me simply from tasting that passion fruit juice. I'll have to treat myself to it every now and then, every sip I take just puts me back there again, amid all of those beautiful flowers, their aroma floating in the air. Nostalgia has a very strong influence on me sometimes.
Suddenly I was reminded of being in Hawaii. I was only five or six when we went there on vacation, but I remember a lot about that place. I'd forgotten I'd even eaten passion fruit there, but the flavor brought back so many feelings and memories of that place that I'd forgotten were there.
I remember walking through a massive flower garden, I think the sky was overcast, a storm that was so close to breaking but held off for a while. The air was filled with the fragrance of those flowers, such a wide, colorful, vibrant variety of them. It seemed that everywhere smelled of flowers, even outside of the garden. Every breeze carried a hint of the heady aroma of that island's flowering plants. I remember there was one flower in particular, to this day I don't know what it was called. It appeared modest enough, simple white pedals, sets of five if I remember right. This flower had the sweetest, most delicate scent. A rose is still my favorite flower, I've had more time to grow a fondness for it, but this flower had one of the most amazing fragrances.
I remember we sampled so many tropical fruits while we were there. There was a banana tree right outside of our hotel room, we could see it from our balcony. We still have a picture of my brother, my sister, and I all standing on that balcony, holding up bananas. There was a beach there, pitch black, the whole thing was nothing but obsidian sand. We saw a recent lava flow, covering the road, invading someone's house. They'd already evacuated, standing outside, watching as the palm tree in their front lawn caught fire and fell over. We walked through a beautiful forest where there was a tree that fascinated me. It looked like wooden muscle, the whole tree was actually a formation of many little trunks, weaving in and out of eachother, branching out overhead.
All of these memories rush back to me simply from tasting that passion fruit juice. I'll have to treat myself to it every now and then, every sip I take just puts me back there again, amid all of those beautiful flowers, their aroma floating in the air. Nostalgia has a very strong influence on me sometimes.