It was June, the very end of the school year. I was taking the kids to the bus stop that morning and upon opening the front door, a waft of perfumed air drifted by me. It was such a beautiful scent that for a moment it stopped my progression and I just stood there inhaling it. “Wow! What’s that smell?” Then it was gone.
We drove down the dirt driveway, across a highway and down another dirt road through the woods until we reached the access road where the bus was. I had the car windows open; the scent was drifting in and out. Looking back and forth on the road, I could not locate the source. After the bus arrived and the precious cargo was shipped off to school, I went back up to the house, stepped out of the car, and there it was again. I was determined to find it before I had to leave for work.
A thorough search was done around the back of the house, but it was not coming from my garden. Heading down the drive again, I kept stopping to sniff the air like an animal. The aroma would come and go; almost like a genie from a bottle, I could imagine swirls and tendrils of the elusive scent, invisibly uncurling. Down the hill and out to the road again, I started walking alongside the mowed sides of the highway – and suddenly, there it was – wild roses. Shrubs and shrubs and shrubs of white, wild, summer roses (Multiflora Rose, R. multiflora). I just stood there inhaling them. On the side of the road, a piece of heaven. I took a few sprigs with me and kept sniffing them the entire ride to work. When I arrived at work, I discovered that these roses are everywhere.
They come in late spring for a short while, and then they are gone. An annual treat to look forward to, I can barely get enough of their intoxication. Have you smelled them? I am drunk on the heady scent of the wild summer roses of June.