The Darling Buds- Lilacs

They taste like my grandmother.

If I close my eyes, I am five again, hiding under the bushes while my cousins race past, oblivious.

It was a good hiding place.

It is hard to pull apart the smells now, though.

When I smell lilacs, I smell the heavy richness of spice.

I also smell the ghost scent, decay and dirt and death, hiding underneath the floral.

For all that our descriptions are visual, we remember far more by scent than we do by scene.

I don’t see lilacs.

I taste them.

I remember years of frozen moments that have nothing to do with flowers.

IMG_0437Lilac: Youthful Innocence

The Darling Buds will be my week of flowers. There’s no extra meaning to that. I just wanted to write about flowers.

If you would like to see more purple writing, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.

2 thoughts on “The Darling Buds- Lilacs

  1. I’m terrible about including scent in my writing, but I do think about it a lot in Life. I moved to San Francisco a few years ago, and one of the predominant smells here (maybe second to urine) is marijuana. I’ve asked people who were born here if the smell of weed takes them back to their childhoods, and everyone has said yes. I find that absolutely fascinating.

    For me, the smell of raw trash or sewage takes me back to my parents’ home country of Lebanon. Strangely comforting.

    • I’ve had injuries that have led to hearing impairment in addition to my poor eyesight. I’ve found that, maybe because of that, I’m very attracted to descriptions of scent and taste. So many of my strongest memories are associated with scent and taste that they often conjure a far more visceral set of imagery than visual images.

      I love that the childhood memories of SF are deeply intertwined with the smell of weed. It’s amazing how even the strangest scents can be comforting if they remind us of something familiar from our past. Like your childhood memories of raw trash and sewage, I find the smells of chicken manure and rotting salmon oddly relaxing. Luckily I don’t often have to smell them in combination.

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