posted by Sun T. on Jun 2
Every time I walk the dog, I can pick up the soft fragrance of honeysuckle hanging on the breeze. It takes me back to a time when I rode my bicycle down the road at my grandmother’s house. I would pick some and bring them to her. She showed us how she used to suck the sweetness right out of the flower as a child.
I cherish those memories. I know why I can’t shake my summertime depression. The memories haunt me like the smell from the flowers as I walk away. Many things in spring and summer bring me back to her house. I used to spend my summers with her and most of spring. I miss the smell of cat food on the porch, the sound of the owls whooting through the forest at night, the joy of sitting amongst the trees and breathing in nature. I miss the sound of her wind chimes…I can hear them faintly tinkling on the breeze every time I walk outside.
Well…that’s where my honeysuckle dreams come to life. I am glad to have the memories, but sad I can’t make more.
June 3rd, 2007 at 11:06 pm
Isn’t it funny how different smells make us remember things. My Grandma’s house always had a sweet smell.
June 9th, 2007 at 7:29 pm
That’s so funny, because my husband was just telling me about that last week, when we picked up the smell of Honeysuckle outside of a restaurant. He couldn’t believe I’d never sucked the sweetness out of the flower, or didn’t know that you could!