There are many scents and odors of nature. Certain plants link us with different memories or emotions. The way that evergreens let out a festive scent or how oranges often remind me of an ex music teacher.
And though there are many wonderful fragrances, nothing has given me such a thirst for adventure as the smell of honeysuckles.
My brothers and I used to live in a tiny house in a small town. Every summer, as our scars healed, we would find a wall of honeysuckles on the back fence.
We'd reach into bite range of spiders and maneuver around poison ivy if it would give us a taste of nectar.
One of my siblings were walking with me not too long ago. On said walk, we happened to smell a hint of sugar in the air. The both of us have never been 'off trail/derailing' type, but in that moment, without discussing, we both leap into a dark pit to find the plant.
We stayed for only a few minutes and picked a handful of flowers before we continued back to our regular, stagnant lives.
A few nights later, when I was in need of more random courage, I went to that trove of sweetness. I drank in the fragrance and felt my soul settle as fireflies feast close by.
That taste, mixed with the smell and soft moonlight, has never been matched.
That bit of pure happiness was intoxicating and left me as an addict wanting more.
