Irresistible, a bouquet of flowers in an elegant vase. I love to put my nose to a blossoming apple tree, the smell of beauty. Sometimes I look about prior to snuggling my face into a branch of blossoms and sneak a breath, lest someone catch me in the act and write me off as a romantic. "That guy is a flower smeller", they’ll say.
This is no happenstance, this alluring aroma. This is an aromatic reminder that sweetness accompanies sorrow. It is only in the moment of blossoming that the coldness of winter passes on. The sweetness of a lilac is like a sea, big and perpetual. You look from side to side, and think, and look more and still it is beyond your reach. You could linger forever in the perfume, but you have things to do. Flowers leave in haste, you’d be remiss to not stop and smell.