I love the way spring smells
the sweet euphoria
of crab apple blossoms
and apple blossoms
and lilacs
and lily of the valley,
smells so intoxicating
they leave a perfect taste
in your mouth.
My grandmother's yard
was filled with fruit trees
apples, pears, cherries,
mullberries
and flowers, especially lilies,
not lily of the valley,
the big white lilies,
her namesake.
We gave her one
nearly every year.
Long ago, when she was alive,
we often visited in early summer
after spring smells turned pungent,
hot mowed grass, marigolds, zinnias,
wheat field dust
though the lily blooms hung on
the longest, leaving hints of sweetness
floating in the air,
as summer blooms
took their place.
I remember sitting on a chair
in the pea gravel driveway
turning the wheel of a cherry pitter,
watching the cherries
roll into the bowl.
She was inside canning
and freezing, along with my mother,
picking through the pitted cherries,
pulling those too flawed to preserve.
Those we ate, as well as
lots of cherry cobbler.
Other grandchild chores included
climbing trees to pick pears and apples,
if we visited later in the summer.
That was fun.
I miss the smells of Grandma
and Grandpa
lavender, Skoal snuff cans,
lilies
Any of those smells take me back,
back to a place of comfort.