This photo must have been taken in around mid-1950s. We have just finished lunch and sat for the phot in front of the washed dishes somewhere in an orchard. Our connection with the Bam's orange groves and palm trees which surrounded every house was immortal. In spring time the scents invaded the space like clouds coming down from heaven with angels dancing on the rose petals and the orange blossoms. Granma Bibi Atieh's hobby would start with her walking slowly round the orchards and picking up the biggest and most scented Mohammedi roses in her basket to bring home for distiling and making rosewater. She did the same with mints and parts of palm trees. My aunt Iran's basement was always full of bottles of rosewater and other scented herbs, pickles and jams which grandma made during the year.
Here in this photo from left: Aunt Iran, Grandma, Aunt's mother-in-law, me with a curl on my forehead, Little cousin Fati, Showkat khanum sitting on a a chair, cousin Zarin and a maid. The boy in the back is cousin Mehdi.