It's a fairly well established fact that smell is a powerful memory-jogger and I've been reminded of that lately as spring has sprung and so much is starting to bloom. Growing up, we had a big lilac bush in our yard and that intoxicating lilac smell is what determined that they would become my favorite flower. I've never wavered in that conviction; just smelling them transports me back to that aching teenage feeling of waiting for love to happen and knowing that if something can smell as wonderful as lilacs do, anything is possible.
Lilacs are blooming in Richmond right now and I cut a huge bouquet yesterday, which I split between my living room and bedroom. The apartment is perfumed with them now and their scent keeps me in a constant state of awareness of that teenage feeling. I knew then that wonderful things were going to happen to me, romantic things that I couldn't even imagine then. And now, despite the recent upheaval in my love life, smelling this year's flowers is enough to convince me that my hopeless romanticism will again be rewarded. And until that happens, I have the lilacs to enjoy.
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