Where The Lilacs Blow

To My Sweet Adaline

           

           If I had to describe to you how they smelt, it would have to be during the middle of May. Long after a rainstorm had just pushed its way through the countryside, the dew still sticking to the petals as if they were trying to keep the scent all to their own. I would lead you down the dirt path behind my house. The one where you could feel the cool dampness of the earth under your feet as the soil touches the very fibers of your skin. We would pass by the rusty gate my father never got around to fixing, laughing at the way it loudly squeaked as we ran through it. Just as we were almost reaching the clearing, a gentle breeze would hit the air and you would watch as I close my eyes and take a long deep breath in. Allowing the air that carried their scent to fill up my lungs and expel itself between my lips. I would grab your hand and lead you through an opening in the bushes towards the meadow. A smile would cross my face as I see you light up at their beauty for the first time.

           Watching you reach out to touch them and marveling at the way they felt like silk between your delicate fingers. I would sit you under my favorite spot in the grass and hold you between my arms. I'd start to tell you about the first time my father brought me here and what it was like the first time I saw what he had planted for me. I could see your eyes crease as you notice the change in my voice when I spoke about him and heard the hurt behind the comfort. You would grab my hand and gently rub my thumb with yours, never interrupting but still allowing me to know you were there for me. After the sun starts to settle behind the trees and the color of the sky changes to a fiery red with hints of orange and remnants of blue, I would stand up and break off a piece of the branch carrying the petals for you. I would lead you back through the bushes, and the clearing, past the rusty gate, and down the dirt path back to your house. We would stop at the foot of the stairs leading up to your door and I'd gently give you a kiss on the cheek. I would watch you wave goodbye to me before placing the petals under your nose and smelling them one last time. You'd get up to your room and place the bushel in some water and stick it beside your open window, hoping that the breeze would make its way in and bring you back to that moment with me in the meadow. Knowing that each time that the air would lift its sweet scent to you, at least for a short while, we would be together again.

          If I had to describe to you how they smelt, it would be the day that we first met. The day I first fell in love with you, sweet Adaline.

"Hey! can't you watch where you're going, girl?" she said accusingly while brushing the dust off her dress and fixing the long curly red locks of hair out of her face. I stared at her in shock as I took in her beauty. I could feel my cheeks turning redder than a sinner in church.

"Oh my, I am so sorry, I was in a hurry and..." she cut me off, holding up a tiny hand in my face.

"I don't need to hear your excuses... what I could use is some help up though," turning her hand towards me. I was still in shock, like a deer in the headlights.

"Well, are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help a lady up?" raising her eyebrow at me as if she couldn't believe I hadn't done so already.

"I, uh, well yes... of course miss" I stumble out as I grab her hand and yank her back up.

"Phew, I thought I was going to be stuck there all afternoon," she laughed as she patted down the ruffles in her dress. It was the prettiest sound in the whole world.

"Um...," I sputter out, "are you, okay?" She looks at me like I have two heads.

"Well of course I'm okay...," she sways her body around and I watch her dress follow in synchronization. "Look, no harm no foul." I could feel my face getting red again and I quickly look down at my feet.