the scents that shaped our gardens and memories
When I walk through my backyard on a warm June evening, the scent of lilacs always takes me back to my grandmother’s porch in Michigan. She believed every home needed a lilac bush, while my daughter prefers the crisp, clean smell of lavender—something she picked up from trendy wellness blogs. Isn’t it funny how our noses remember the past, while our hands reach for the future?
Growing up, the neighborhood was filled with peonies and roses, their heavy perfume lingering after rainstorms. Now, I see more people planting native milkweed and wild bergamot, drawn by their subtle fragrances and their promise to help pollinators. Some neighbors grumble that these wildflowers look messy compared to the tidy flowerbeds we once took pride in. Is a garden meant to be a work of art, or a haven for bees and butterflies?
Our community garden recently debated whether to ban certain strong-smelling plants, claiming they bother some residents. I wonder—are we losing a piece of our shared heritage in the name of comfort? Or are we just adapting to new ways of living together?
As the seasons change, I find myself torn between the nostalgia of old-fashioned blooms and the excitement of discovering new scents. What about you? Do you cling to the flowers of your childhood, or are you drawn to modern trends and native plants? Let’s talk about the scents that make our gardens—and our lives—unique.
#gardeningmemories #flowerdebate #scentedgardens #Gardening
