Childhood

The smell of lilacs reminds me of my childhood, of the smell of morning as we waited for the schoolbus at the end of our driveway. It reminds me of walking with my mom, and stopping every time we passed a lilac tree, so that she could stop and bury her face in a bloom, a look of joy on her face. It reminds me of being innocent, before my parent's divorce.

It's a good smell.