It's not really spring till . . .
. . . I've received my bouquet of fully opened lilacs.
I don't remember lilacs in California or Texas. Magnolias and azaleas, yes. Lilacs, no. Nor do I recall the showiness of seasons changing and nature turning colors.
But Minnesota introduced me to the intoxicating fragrance of lilacs--and the exquisite anticipation of them.
To draw the attention of my children to this season opener, I struck a deal with them some 20 years ago.
The first one to bring me a bouquet of lilacs (and they had to be fully blossomed--no cheating) earned $5. Every year.
They're now 27, 25, and 22 -- and not one year has passed without someone collecting on the deal. Sign of the times? Hooked on tradition? Love?
Today, my daughter came through the front door with a fistful of lilacs and an itch for her prize.
"I don't think I've won in 3 years!" she said, beaming.
Little does she know how much more she has really won.
Happy "Real" Spring!
Image by hessiebell (can you smell 'em?)