At Canyon Grill, a father said, “My favorite part of the year is happening right now. At this moment!”
I said, “How come?”
The father said, “Because the daphnes are blooming. It’s the first flower of the year to bloom. And they smell like the milk leftover in a bowl of Trix.”
I said, “That sounds wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled them before.”
A few minutes later, his little son called my name and I came toward him.
“Pam,” the little boy said, “This is for you.” And he held a daphne up to me. I received it with a heartfelt smile. The flowers were so tiny. I held it to my nose. It did smell like a the milk leftover in a bowl of Trix. I put it in the kitchen, on the clean dish rack.
All through the night, a few times an hour I picked it up and put it against my nose. When the night was over I put the stem in the right pocket of my black peacoat and the flower sat just above the pocket close to my belly. It stayed with me as my friend drove me over to the train. It went with me on the train. On the bus, I twirled it between my fingers and breathed it in. I looked at the spinning flower, rolling the stem between my fingers and I gazed out the window, serene. As I approached my apartment, I smelled the daphne once more and then laid it on the bench designated for giving things away.