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Through the garden of delights
Sweet and joyful memories rushed back to my mind as I opened the creaking wooden gate of the family garden.
I hadn’t been there in years, it was smaller and cozier than in my childhood memories, and overflowing with trees and flowers. I walked around the bush of wild roses where we used to play hide and seek. The mouth-watering scent of flowers and musky woods coupled with the reminder of the sweet feast we would inevitably have hidden in the greenhouse was irresistible.
I sat comfortably in the shade of the tall cypress as we used to do. From there, I had a perfect view of the flowerbed of white lilies. The breeze carried the sweet smell of the jasmine tree that climbed the wall of the winter garden, looking after the precious vanilla pods in the greenhouse.
Although I couldn’t see it from where I was, I was confident it was blooming. I abandoned myself to the comforting feeling of belonging to the place and took a tiny bag of violet sweets out of my pocket. I took a deep breath.
It was the scent of happiness at dawn.
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