The mastering odor of the lilac holds me

The olfactory senses are rather intriguing and baffling sometimes.  Isn't it amazing how one simple smell can trigger so many memories?  Often enough such scents waft by our noses quite unexpectedly, sometimes to our delight and sometimes to our sadness.

In his poem, "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd," Walt Whitman movingly remembers a fallen comrade.  He begins, saying,

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
lilac blossoming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.

After several stanzas wondering how he shall mourn his fallen friend, Whitman says, "Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me."  The mastering odor of the lilac holds me, too, though with much more pleasant memories.

Growing up in Quincy, we had three lilac bushes planted at three corners of our house.  Every spring when we opened the windows the mastering odor of the lilac wafted through the house.  For me, the scent of the lilac always recalls the beauty of spring and arrival of my favorite season.

The scent of the lilac reminds me of more peaceful and relaxing times, of simple soccer games outside, of video games and books and Legos.  It reminds me of hours spent in the fields building forts and playing to be knights and kings.  It reminds me of lemonade and lawn chairs, thunderstorms and family (we spent hours on the front porch watching the storms roll in across the Mississippi River).  (It also makes me think of the hilarious musical, Nunsense.)  In short, the scent of the lilac reminds of childhood and happiness and simple times.

This morning as I went for a walk, I thought twice I smelled the scent of lilacs, though I could not find the bushes.  I know it seems early yet for lilacs, but this has been a strange winter and spring.  The mastering odor of the lilac always lifts my spirit and fills me with gratitude.

What memories do lilacs bring to you?

The Vicar wins

The Pastor and I had an ongoing argument this afternoon - actually, it goes back some months - about the lack of lilac bushes around the rectory.

I grew up with three lilac bushes right outside of our house, almost strategically placed so as to fill the entire house with the heavenly aroma throughout the spring and summer months whenver the windows were left open. It is a scent I miss greatly.

Lately, I have been asking to plant a lilac bush or two - maybe even seven - underneath windows in rooms that I spend a greater amount of time.

The Pastor has been insisting most strongly all afternoon that there is already a lilac bush underneath the kitchen window, and that it has been there for some years now.

I argued back with an emphatic "NO!" on the simple grounds that I have never smelled the scent of lilac in the rectory. If you grew up with the scent, it is not one that is missed or forgotten.

Our cook, for her part, believing the word of the Pastor, suggested it was a newer, non-smelling, lilac, to which the Pastor seemed to give his approval.

Only moments ago, the Pastor called the housekeeper to his office - she was already here cleaning the parish offices - to ask her about the plant in question. It was she who planted it in the first place.

She stated it is indeed not a lilac, but a forsythia. (It so happens that she, too, grew up with lilacs all around her house.)

Vicar - 1. Pastor - 0.