This year I have been surprised, time and again, by how my favorite flowers were also my Mom’s favorite flowers. The way they turn up in my life is amazing.
Spring shows me that star jasmine, that lovely, fragrant-filled star-shaped flower, should really be the unofficial flower of Southern California. This is a photo of the jasmine in my Dad’s back yard, and it’s what I grew up with – how could I not love the scent and appeal of star jasmine?
The star jasmine in my Dad’s back yard. It’s been there since I was a baby, and it was just a tiny plant in the ground. Oh, and the plant to the right is a giant pumpkin plant.
But what’s more, it seems like everywhere I go, I find star jasmine tucked away somewhere. In a corner, or a pot by the door of a restaurant. Used as an ornamental, a wall covering, or adding lacy appeal to a rustic fence. Just walking in my neighborhood shows me that most of my neighbors have star jasmine somewhere in their yards.
Jasmine as sculpture…
Decorating a rustic fence.
I enjoy walking from where I park my car to my work because of this lovely scent. It also makes the obligatory 45 minute walk around the neighborhood much more fun. Lately I’ve been taking a camera with me, and finding the jasmine and taking photos just perked up my whole day (though the neighbors watched me warily).
Brightening up an otherwise dull, unused corner.
I remember one summer evening before my father had torn down the swing set. I was sixteen and had just gotten dressed up (don’t ask me why!) in a kind of prairie outfit – blue skirt with a white underskirt (swiss voile? something like that) with a white top that laced up the front. I had just finished reading something sad and romantic, and I went outside and sat on the swing. Smelled the jasmine, heard the call of the mourning doves, and felt melancholy – I would never know love. I would die a terribly tragic death and everyone would feel sorry for me.
And then, you know, I got over it. But the memory has stayed with me, and every time I smell jasmine I get a slightly melancholy and yet happy nostalgia.
What about you? Is there a certain flower that resonates with you, more than any other?
~oOo~
Thanks for stopping by. Hope you have a safe and happy Memorial Day. Until the next time, Cheers!
I have star jasmine too. The flower that resonates with me is the hot pink/red hibiscus. First made its acquaintance in Hawaii and I think of that lovely trip every time I see the flower.
Oh Sarah, yes – we had a red hibiscus flower in our side yard for years! That’s such a lovely one…
Ah, star jasmine is one of my favorites. We have a bunch in our yard and every Spring it blossoms with the most fragrant flowers. It’s heaven to get up in the morning, with the sky still dark, but the jasmine perfuming the air. I think my favorite is the gardenia. I’ve always loved the delicate blooms and scent. Whenever I buy perfume, it’s always made up of white flowers. Someday, I will have a garden filled with blooming, blossoming, fragrant flowers so that year-round I can step outside and be greeted with a different scent. I need to learn how to not kill plants first. For real. The ones that thrive in my yard are the ones I don’t dare touch. It’s sad, really, but I’m motivated to become a gracious gardener.
Tameri, you crack me up. Though I totally get where you’re coming from. I used to kill plants all the time, until I discovered Miracle Gro and – gasp – watering…lol!
Tulips do it for me. They were my mom’s favorite. They’re so cheerful and friendly-looking. I know when I see them that my mom is with me in that exact moment and I feel that same melancholy that you do.
I love tulips too, Suzanne – but they don’t do well in So Cal. So I go with daffodils, which aren’t anywhere near as fussy about getting cold. But I do love me the tulips.