Pressing the first blossom of spring

The first blossom never lasts. One good southerly and the tree that stopped you in the street last week is bare again. So I have started pressing a sprig each spring, and keeping the flat, papery ghost of it.

How I press them

You do not need a press — a heavy book and some baking paper will do — but a proper wooden one with wing nuts is a joy, and it stacks. Lay the flower flat between sheets of clean paper, tighten it down, and then the hard part: leave it alone for three to four weeks. Peek too soon and you crease it forever.

What surprised me

The colours change, and not always the way you expect. Deep pinks fade to a soft parchment, but some whites go almost translucent, like stained glass held up to the window. A manuka sprig kept its little dark seed cases perfectly. It is a different, quieter version of the flower — not the blossom itself, but a good memory of it.

I date each one in pencil in the corner. A drawer of them is a strange sort of calendar: this is the spring the plum flowered early, this is the year it barely flowered at all.