Honeysuckle

Last week I discovered honeysuckle growing deep in our backyard. If you’re wondering how I could possibly be unaware of something growing in my own backyard, then you a) haven’t seen our yard, and b) probably have a very different attitude toward yard maintenance than Jonathan and I do. In our defense, our backyard is large, partially wooded and rather unkempt. I actually love it when I’m not stressing about what the neighbors think. It’s very private and quiet, and it feels like we are hiking in the woods rather than in the center of the city.

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Jonah and I have been spending lots of time outside as the weather has gotten warmer, which led me to the honeysuckle discovery last week. I brought it up to Jonah’s nose to let him smell it, and showed him how to pull out the middle stem to eat the honey from inside. He was a fan and kept handing me blooms like the sweet boy he is.

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wikipedia.org
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wikipedia.org

When I was 16, I wrote my first ever piece of writing that was just for fun and not for any kind of school assignment. The essay was called “Honeysuckle,”and I posted it on the still-existing fanfiction.net (ha). I wish that I could find a copy. I remember that this piece was about May, about driving around my hometown in a big white truck with a boy I liked, about not knowing what would happen next but being young and full of possibilities and living in the present.

Most people have probably heard about how of all senses, smells have the most profound connection to memories and emotions. I have a deep, visceral reaction every time I smell honeysuckle. It takes me back, to school letting out and the feeling of a full summer ahead of me with few responsibilities, to watching my brother’s baseball games on summer evenings, to being allowed to go out at night with friends for the first time, to summertime community theatre musicals, to kissing in cars in out-of-the-way spots with high school boyfriends, to returning home to Jackson after my car accident, to high school graduation and the beginning of college. To my wedding.

Honeysuckle means home. It’s where I’ve been, and it’s where I’m going. Smelling it takes me back to the best moments of my childhood and young adulthood. Life is beautiful like that.

 

What smells are nostalgic for you?

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