My morning walk was canceled and instead it was mid-afternoon as I began my 4-mile ritual. I was just a few hundred feet into letting my mind wander and my imagination take over my day when I was startled by a fragrance that hit my nostrils and my mind almost as if I had walked into a wall. I stopped and looked and there they were, the first lilacs of spring. A smile wrapped around my face filled with so many memories I could hardly hold them all in my mind. Then I took a step and pushed my nose into the delicate and intricate display of purple and breathed deeply, once, then twice and then a third time.
My nostrils and lungs were filled with that wonderful lilac smell and as I filled myself with “that smell” I remembered how every spring (later than in Kansas) in northwestern Wisconsin my father would bring my mother a bouquet of white lilacs. She would beam and ask him where he found them. His universal answer was, “oh just out in the woods.” White were her favorites and she contended they smelled better.
Then one year my dad brought two things home, one a bouquet of the wonderful flowers that filled the house with that unique and incredible fragrance, and a small lilac bush, dug with a ball of dirt to preserve its life for transplant. My father carefully looked out the laundry room window to find a line of sight so my mother (all 5’2’’) could see. Then he planted the bush. “Now,” he said, “you don’t have wait for me to bring them home and you can see them as long as they bloom.” Every spring since my father died my mother announced the changing of the season with these words: “That lilac bush, the white one your father planted, is blooming. It’s spring. I’m going to bring in a bouquet for the house.”
Flowers have beauty and fragrance (most of the time) and fragrance is a memory trigger. So what flowers trigger a memory in you? Write a story about a flower, a fragrance, and the people who loved them or you.