I woke up slowly , a gentle green world all around me . the trees showing off the their brand new green dresses , The bottle was on my dresser . Without thinking , I reached out and opened it … just another whiff , I I thought , reaching out for it , as I had once before many years ago . It rushed out at me , all around me , I could feel the air spinning and singing , like a fairytale choir , awesome in its’ silent oratorio , deafening in its’ song of joy .
The scent explodes through my head and heart at the same time . I felt dizzy , my world was spinning , and a strange joy overcame me ….
I remembered the smell …….. … that exquisite scent .The scent of lilacs – a song of eternal spring , a never ending , time;less youth … The scent that would rush to my head when I tiptoed into my Mother’s room to quietly commune with its’ magic . There was a sprig of lilac caught in a bottle . Trapped , surrounded by years of memories , in lilac eau de cologne .My gift as a child , entranced by the wonder of the trapped flowers in spring time , I saved my money , and bought the wondrous perfume for my mother’s April birthday , because she loved the lilacs that bloomed shortly after . I loved the magic of spring . When I opened the bottle as a child , it was a s if I would unleash the power of sylph spirits , who were trapped , and could finally fly free again .
I would carefully open it , and gently sniff the bottle . closing my eyes . The spirits would rise in a dizzying waft , entering the air and my being with a delicate rush , like a song , directly into my brain . I would feel my world expand , as if I was wandering in lilac worlds , where time stopped , and lilacs never ended . They would relax , me , and I would wander , my world becoming shades of the color purple , lavender , mauve . They wouldenchant me , tickle , me , entering my nostrils . They spoke to me , asking me to always release them – butt gently , always slowly so they could fly , and work their magic , even to return .
I honored their request , and would tip toe in to release the spirits of the flowers as often as possible . .
Until one day ,my mother’s voice resounded , , ” My dear , what are you doing … my reply , “Nothing , ” dismissed clearly with ,” but remember , I can see through walls , my dear , and be careful with that bottle , or it will all spill , and be gone …. ”
I left the flower spirits alone after that , forbidden to release them . And forgooten all these years , until now , they have always lived inside that bottle . I found it in my Mother’s precious things drawer , as it always had been kept . Now , grown , so many years later , it sat on my dresser , and it is lilac time again . A perfect spring , tender and fresh , that never ended is still inside that bottle . My mother’s life is ebbing .
I held it up to the morning light . The blossoms eternally fresh inside , still trapped in what was now only a very small amount of the precious lilac water . So many , many years , and every year , the bottle had held their spirits … and I , now grown , have seen the world , and so many springs .The lilacs remain ever fresh . The magical water the bottle holds is evaporating slowly ; a strange hour glass … like a life … eternal with the smell of spring .