6 MAY 2006, Page 24

Genesis

Sitting at the window shelling peas into a battered colander between my knees (sweet, pod-swollen peas of early May) till suddenly I find I’ve slipped away sixty years and vividly recall rough stone on bare legs astride a wall swinging sandalled feet, a summer tan on knees, arms, face and summer in my hair; a cat sprawled in the mint-bed asleep there; and tiny fruit which bud the apple tree.

How genes shuck off the pod of memory: battered colander between her knees, the woman sitting shelling Maysweet peas where my Mendelian legacy began.

Ian Blake