I Don't Mind the Sneezing. Between the Lilacs, Honeysuckle, and Lily of the Valley, Outside Simply Smells Like Hope

There's a field about 3 miles from my house that is loaded with Lily of the Valley. I have some in my backyard, but it is only a small patch. Whenever I walk that way, I nab four or five stalks so I can put them in a tiny water vase in my bathroom (tiny vases with a huge fragrant punch). At night, I like to shut the door of the bathroom so when I come down in the morning and open the door, I simply declare, "Okay, Utopia. I know. I know. I know. I live in the heavens and not with those other, shittier, dirt-driven, fart-frenzied types." Then I look in the mirror and simply think, "Yup. You're one of them," as I wipe eye boogers from my eyes and pluck out a few nose hairs.

I remember the first time I smelled these flowers and thought, "Holy cow. How does something so little offer such a smell?" Then I remember my niece's flatulence in Goldbergs when she was a kid. We're beasts. For every good smell, there's also a toxic one.

I've not planted the garden yet, but watered the perennials during a short break yesterday and wondered why our K-12 schools don't do more to teach kids about building aesthetic spaces that cultivate nature for a better tomorrow. I finished a Joseph Bruchac book that comes out in June, Rez Dog, and loved thinking about how we might invest in our kids today as an investment to the world 8 years from now (perhaps in the way that Luke describes pedagogy as a gift). 

In my adult life, I'm thankful that my grandparents had gardens and built harmony with the land. As a kid, I didn't think much of my father's garden until the year he planted grass seed over it and never planted vegetables again. To this day I look at that space and think, "Whoa. How many summers did that garden offer us salad, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, and peppers?" 

It was a way of life. 

I also think back to Jefferson Memorial Forest in Louisville, where I was told, as an intern, I had 25 people signed up for a butterfly garden workshop. It was my 2nd day. I told the ranger, I don't know anything about butterfly plants, and he said, "By this time tomorrow you will, otherwise it will be a lousy workshop."

Guess who memorized field guides that night? It helped me to pay attention to details...both the giver (flowers), the takers (butterflies and bees(, and the ways those takers also give back, as well. 

So, that's the way I roll, too. For everything I take, I need to whirl it back to the Great Whatever so there's equilibrium. It just seems...well, natural.

Good to stop and smell the flowers.