Around Town June 10, 2015
It is that time of year again, my favorite of all time, magolia, hydrangea and gardenia season!
And, I must admit, I swipe magnolia blossoms and have been known to swipe a gardenia or two.
I’ve only swiped a one…okay, two hydrangeas in my nefarious past, only because they are noticeable when swiped, so I only have snipped two from homes that were for sale.
Now, swiping gorgeous blooms is not anything to brag about. Especially not publically, and in a paper that prints the booking reports.
But, I have such a strong love of the scent of magnolia blooms, and gardenias, that I just – can – not – resist.
I try to walk away without taking one when I take my little white Schnoodle Taffy on her early morning walks. But then, I get tempted, and I turn back for one long inhale of whichever heavily fragranced bloom that is within reach.
And, I tell myself, just one.
And I am careful to only snip the gardenias on bushes that have an overabundance and take the one closest to the ground, or way behind the bush that won’t spoil the view for others who enjoy them as much as me.
And, as far as magnolia branches are for someone to reach that barely graces 5’5” in my preferred walking shoe, white Keds or flip flops, I rarely manage to reach one, but when I do, I take great care to only take one that is again, hidden from view and from a tree that has plenty more for others to enjoy.
When I confess my sins to others, many roll their eyes and say, “Magnolia trees are so messy! Why on earth do you love THEM?”
And I answer…”You have obviously never smelled one up close!”
When challenged, my magnolia hating friends are surprised.
The scent of a magnolia blossom is heavy, sweet, and lemony. It is what I imagine heaven will smell like each morning as the angels fly among the puffy clouds on their way to choir practice.
And the gardenia, well, that scent is timeless. My great-grandmother had many little tiny bottles of the scent from the 1920’s that were saved when she died much too young from a tuberculosis update when my Mum was only 3 years old, and her little brother was barely 6 months old. I have one of Grandmother Josephine’s tiny gardenia perfume bottles on my dresser.
And as legend goes, she used to swipe tomatoes fresh off the vine on her way to school some mornings and eat it like an apple.
So, I blame my impulsive bloom swiping on her, and pray that God forgives me.
I am really sorry, God.
See you next week!