As much as I love the deeply fragrant smell of lilacs in the spring, I think I prefer the lighter, less heady smell of peonies.
Peonies smell like warm, late-spring afternoons on Heine Avenue where several plants grew on the south-facing side of the house. That smell is wafting through my dining room right now bringing me memories of my childhood at 240 Heine.
The smell foretold the end of the school year and the long, carefree warm months of summer just around the corner. Soon there’d be fireflies. Soon we’d be barefoot all day.
I only have one peony plant that produces flowers. Usually I only get two or maybe three flowers, but this year I got five — likely because the neighbor cut down a tree that was casting shade where the peonies grew. I hope to plant more of these, perhaps in front of something that we’ll plant for privacy instead of the weeds that grow there now.
2 thoughts on “Peonies”
I love peonies (but not the ants). Your house was so close to where I lived the one year…I just went down an Elgin tunnel.
Sort of close. The house where you lived is much closer to the no-longer-standing house in which my grandfather grew up. Yes, sometimes I go down Elgin tunnels too. I only have one family member there now, a second cousin.
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