Made for another world

"If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." C. S. Lewis

Friday, May 28, 2010

The fragrance of a memory

Warm, bare toes sink down into the thick carpet of emerald green. The heady scent of lilac, fresh and clean, perfumes the air. The fragrance awakening memories, images shuffle through her mind. A little girl dozing in the warm southern sun listens to the lazy hum of bees drunk on nectar, she clutches her baby doll and smiles content. The image fades and she sees the girl, older now, tripping bare foot down a sun baked country road, making friends with nature. She stops to collect lace growing wild, in the heavy air she hears the distant sound of the littler ones squeal and laugh. Now she's older yet, almost a woman, sitting in the sheltering shadow of a spreading oak. Absorbed in a book, the sounds of a thrush in the underbrush, the soft coo of a dove, the quiet rustle of a bunny all set a comforting backdrop as she ponders how her life hangs poised on the edge of the future. Finally the perfume brings back images of white, now a bride in the full bloom of love, sunny bouquets of flowers add their offering to the celebration of the day. Her mind awakens to the present, the familiar pungency of living purple comforts and links her heart to those days now beyond her reach.

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