The scent of nostalgia is mimosas....
I've always believed myself to be lucky in the fact that my childhood was close to perfection. Of course there were hard times, but now that I'm 30 and look back on it, it's as if my life until I was around 12 or 13 was covered with a thin layer of honey, sweet and golden hued. Today I cannot stop thinking of the mimosa tree in the front yard of the house I lived at when I was a kid.
My favorite tree, I remember summer vacations, being outside all day and evenings in June with the strong scent of mimosas. The blossoms so soft, I would always put them to my face and immediately make a crown for my head. Unfortunately the flowers wilted quickly, so my mimosa crown never lasted long. That tree was always the safe tree for Tag, Hide and Seek or whatever silly game was made up. Sitting in the grass, backs against the trunk talking to childhood friends about nothing and everything. Life was open and ripe with possibilities. God, I miss that.
I drove by that house not too long ago and discovered they tore out the mimosa tree. There is nothing there, no sign of it, the grass even and green and the yard bare. It's almost like that tree never existed, and seeing that filled me with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia so intense, that I'm still a bit mystified about it.
My favorite tree, I remember summer vacations, being outside all day and evenings in June with the strong scent of mimosas. The blossoms so soft, I would always put them to my face and immediately make a crown for my head. Unfortunately the flowers wilted quickly, so my mimosa crown never lasted long. That tree was always the safe tree for Tag, Hide and Seek or whatever silly game was made up. Sitting in the grass, backs against the trunk talking to childhood friends about nothing and everything. Life was open and ripe with possibilities. God, I miss that.
I drove by that house not too long ago and discovered they tore out the mimosa tree. There is nothing there, no sign of it, the grass even and green and the yard bare. It's almost like that tree never existed, and seeing that filled me with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia so intense, that I'm still a bit mystified about it.
2 Comments:
"When one door of happiness closes, another one opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us."
Helen Keller
Hmm. I like this. Maybe I'm just a bit hesitant about my future and didn't realize it until now. Thank you.
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