“… I carried to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had let soften a bit of madeleine. But at the very instant when the mouthful of tea mixed with cake crumbs touched my palate, I quivered, attentive to the extraordinary thing that was happening inside me.”
Marcel Proust from In Search of Lost Time
What is it about a scent that can change you from the inside out, taking you to a place in memory, or of a memory never yet experienced?
That is what it was like the first time I inhaled (for great it was) the perfume of the Mock Orange blossoms. Immediately I had to have it, for its scent was too beautiful to deny myself this annually blooming shrub.
That was probably over a dozen years ago.
Since moving from our larger home, on a larger property to a townhouse on a postage stamp sized lot, the thing I have missed most, longed for most frequently, was my mock orange and its springtime blossoms that diffused in the air around, much to my delight.
So, this summer, in the midst of a heat spell, I purchased one, to plant in a pot on my minuscule patio.
I have fed it, watered it and protected it from the heat on the hottest of days. With each act of care, I dreamed of that moment next spring when nature would reward me with delicate white flowers, emitting the dreamiest of fragrances.
Just the other day I noticed something different.
It couldn’t be …
As I moved closer I detected what appeared to be flower buds on the top of the plant.
The plant in my previous garden bloomed annually, every year in mid May, calling my nose to a closer inspection. That was the only time it ever bloomed.
But here, in a pot, on my little patio, the most delightful of gifts was enfolding, blooming right before my eyes, sending its aroma up, into the air, beckoning me to come closer.
And I said thanks.
Thanks, not to this flower, but to its Maker, who knew how to speak love most clearly to the heart of this daughter.
itsawonderfilledlife 