![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Coming home this evening, just past sunset, was a tiny slice of perfection.
The sun was shining for most of the day, and in the early evening the air was just cool enough to be comfortable against my skin, without being chilly. And the lilacs in our yard went from tightly closed buds yesterday morning to almost-full bloom tonight, so that as I stepped out of the car a breeze full of gorgeous lilac-scent greeted me. I wandered over to the bush and just stood for a few minutes in the almost-dark, with the leaves and the flowers surrounding me, breathing in the flowery goodness.
I'm always torn, at this time of year, between the urge to cut a big bouquet of lilacs for my living room and the desire to leave as many blossoms as I can on the plant for as long as possible - they never last as long as I wish they would. This particular bush is amazing, too; old and tall and filled with the palest purple flowers (I've never been quite as fond of the dark-purple lilacs, and the white ones, while beautiful, just aren't the same).
Tomorrow morning they'll be in full bloom, and the sun will be shining on them, and it'll be splendid. But the first spring breath of lilacs, sneaking up on me at night, is incredibly magical.
The sun was shining for most of the day, and in the early evening the air was just cool enough to be comfortable against my skin, without being chilly. And the lilacs in our yard went from tightly closed buds yesterday morning to almost-full bloom tonight, so that as I stepped out of the car a breeze full of gorgeous lilac-scent greeted me. I wandered over to the bush and just stood for a few minutes in the almost-dark, with the leaves and the flowers surrounding me, breathing in the flowery goodness.
I'm always torn, at this time of year, between the urge to cut a big bouquet of lilacs for my living room and the desire to leave as many blossoms as I can on the plant for as long as possible - they never last as long as I wish they would. This particular bush is amazing, too; old and tall and filled with the palest purple flowers (I've never been quite as fond of the dark-purple lilacs, and the white ones, while beautiful, just aren't the same).
Tomorrow morning they'll be in full bloom, and the sun will be shining on them, and it'll be splendid. But the first spring breath of lilacs, sneaking up on me at night, is incredibly magical.
