A bonus of moving to Portland in 2020 is that lilacs grow here, my favorite scent of my childhood. I remember early summer blooms in warming air, the long days, sneaking out of my mom’s house in high school to stay up all night walking among blooming flowers. Lilacs don’t live the wet hot air of Louisiana or California and I am glad to be among them again.

This month, I ask for a scent memory, including the scent if possible and as much of the story as you’d like to share.

Printed with polymer plates on my Heidelberg Windmill, on French Paper.

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