The evening air is heavy with the scent of blossoms. Each day new fragrances make their presence known: crab apples, lilacs and blossoms whose names are not part of my lexicon. Walking is an olfactory experience.
These trees are wearing their finery. The magnolias have cried their tear shaped petals; the trees look bereft as their pale green leaves have not yet grown enough to cover their nakedness. Each year they cycle through the phases of growth reminding us that outer beauty is temporary.
