Ethan picking sweet honeysuckle
The smell it fills my nostrils with the sweetest scent of honey, the site it takes me to my childhood chasing fireflies with my plastic cup in hand, the taste transports me to the backyard of my old house picking the honey suckle from the overgrown bushes climbing aimlessly over our chain linked fence. The smell of fresh cut grass, rain on the hot asphalt, chlorine from a nearby pool burning in my memory summertime full of promise and images of laughter and pure joy; spending the night during the week at Cookie’s house, swimming in the backyard pool, kick ball on the street, flashlight tag after sun down because curfew was moved to 9:30.
Staying up late, sleeping in and playing all day, no homework or tests only insatiable honeysuckle and endless summer nights playing ghost in the graveyard, all was balanced and perfect in my world each and every summer!
