Scented Memories

The blooms in the back garden, neglected for most of a decade before I bought this old house, emerge as the season shifts toward autumn. Old fashioned cabbage roses, phlox, and delicate Japanese anemones struggle to poke their heads through the weeds and scent my rooms with memories of Maine. Mornings in the garden, hand snugged in my great-grandfather’s, the chatter of birds and clatter of cooking in the kitchen. The sounds and scents of love.