Childhood

"When I see wild roses on a fence line or smell lilacs in bloom, I'm a kid again. When I hear the coo of a mourning dove or hear the whistle of a steam engine, I still feel young. The sharing of a rainbow in spring, admiring a lovely sunset, or watching birds in the yard takes me back to my childhood." (Amy Edeker from "The Sixty")
For me, it is the smell of honeysuckle and the whippoorwill song. Unfortunately, we have no whippoorwills around here and it has been years since I've heard one. Their sound always reminds me of spring planting time, sitting on the front porch with the whippoorwill calling and waiting for the sound of the tractor coming from the field. That meant Daddy was coming in for supper. Spring evenings on the farm were always filled with sounds of nature and the flash of fireflies and watching the rabbits in the yard doing what we called the "rabbit dance," hopping around snacking on clover.

The smell of honeysuckle always brings a feeling of happiness. In our little community, we have a great place to walk. The walking path is five eights of a mile and passes a prayer garden, an open field filled with wildflowers, crosses a small creek (really just a drainage ditch but creek sounds better) and has a fence row filled with redbud, crepe myrtle and you guessed it, honeysuckle. It is blooming now and everytime I pass by and smell the sweet blooms, my thoughts go to my childhood and memories of playing outdoors with my sisters. It was a time of sunshine, fresh air, swinging on the tire swing, playing house with jar lid dishes and honeysuckle flower arrangements.
Most gardners view honeysuckle as an invasive pest, and I admit, I don't like it in my flower beds, but hopefully, I will always have a vine on the fence somewhere. Childhood memories are welcome from time to time.