This week a monumental spring time event occurred. It is common and happens without fail every year, but I await it with anticipation, searching the road sides for any sign of its coming. It is the blooming of honeysuckle.
After living in the Southwest for eleven years, our move to the Midwest is best remembered by the uncanny unique scent of a plant I soon discovered to be nothing more than an aggravatingly persistent vine that clings tenaciously to every fence line on which it has a foot hold. Ahhh, but the smell of those sweet blossoms fills the air with such an aromatic, invitingly romantic and enticing fragrance. It is truly spring when I drive by those laden fences, honeysuckle draped over them in abounding blooms.
These flowers will bloom the entire summer, lending that incredible smell to the summer air. It will hang on the moisture of those humid summer days.
Can’t you just see those little buds smiling in the sunshine, drinking in its rays.
That fragrance greets you in the morning and sends you to bed in the evening.
I enjoy the practice taking these pictures. This is such a delicate little bloom.
So many pictures of the same thing, sorry. Just trying to get a good feel for macros.
This is the sweet aroma of my little piece of heaven.