SHAKING THEIR PURPLE PLUMES
Dizzy with the perfume of the lilacs, each time I pass a tree or a bush of them, I incline my head and take a great walloping sniff and say AAAAH. I can’t always smell them (thanks, allergies!) but it’s fun to try, and when I DO get a whiff it lasts for a really long time, long after the fact, long after I am gone away from them. It’s the memory of scent and the memory of green and of new and of BURGEONING that gets me through the winters here. All the long dark dreary winter days I...