In Praise of Flowers

When I fall in love, particularly during that heady and heavenly infatuation phase, my senses come wildly alive. All six senses (yes, I meant six) seek to explore the inamorata. My senses carry on unique love affairs of their very own, their joyous exclamations helping to create that raucous cacophony called love. My nose, while relishing all to one degree or another, fell madly in love with only two.

The first is a wonderful human being and friend of mine. We’ve been close for a long, long time. There’s a story here to tell…but it shall remain untold. She wears a perfume that I solely associate with her. It’s a musky, fragrant and complex scent. I have no idea who the perfumer may be (she once told me, but I have long forgotten the name). I understand that it’s quite exclusive (i.e., expensive), so I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that a great many civets suffered duress for the sake of the wearer. All I know is that whenever I smell that particular perfume (and it happens once or twice per year), my mind immediately conjures thoughts of her. Isn’t that the perfumer’s holy grail? To create a scent that will indelibly, and forever, imprint the visage of the wearer unto the brain? Her perfume achieved that sublime goal. My nose remains awestruck.

And then, not surprisingly, there’s “Amazing Woman.” She smelled better than any human being I’ve ever smelled. I’m serious. It’s not that she wore some unique perfume. It’s not that at all. She simply smelled great. All.The.Time. It didn’t matter if it was day or night, it didn’t matter if she was glistening with sweat, it didn’t matter if she had not bathed recently. If Heaven has a scent…she exudes it. She ALWAYS smelled heavenly ("She smells like angels oughtta"). It wasn’t a particular fragrance. It was flowers, spices, magic, musk, fruit, hot blood, wine and incense. The aromas ebbed and waned, drifting in and out of my consciousness, filling me with delight...and an indescribable joy.

Now some of you may be thinking that, in the grand scheme of things, scent is but a minor consideration. Maybe so. Still, who among us does not wish to live surrounded by flowers?

* * *