THE LAST SCENTS
Last week I noticed a single honeysuckle blossom that still clung to the vine. David had noticed it earlier; it seems it had been hanging on a good long while. Most of the vine is brown and dead, ready to be cut back for the winter. Yet this one blossom struggles to remain atop its lonely bit of green sprig. And - yes, it had retained that lovely scent and reminded me of warm summer nights when the odor of honeysuckle wafted up and into the bedroom window.