Walking home from the library and grocery store. Beer and books in hand. Sweat dripping down between my shoulder blades and the sun so bright I’m forced to squint. A sudden and surprising scent picks at the corners of a memory.

Summertime and sleeping in a pink bedroom. Hair smelling of chlorine that no matter how many times you shampooed it never really got out. Dusk nigh on dark. A breeze coming in through the window.

Plants I would later learn are incredibly invasive. Hardy pioneers trying to dominate their new world. Introduced to the new world to carry memories of the old.

In those moments before sleep their scent reminds me of early afternoon raids on bushes. Picking off tiny yellow and white flowers and sucking at one end of them for a little sweet honey nectar. Aptly named, hard to forget.

I look down from my walk and see the evidence on the ground. Many mashed and deformed. A few still easily identifiable. Their scent very pervasive and I smile.

Honeysuckle.


(Picture from http colon forward slashx2 elmostreport.blogspot.com)

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