My neighbor told me about the smell of the tree. So I grabbed a coffee and went to find it.

April 12th, 2013, 6pm

I find the tree. The big yellow one.

I hold my breath and crawl under her branches. I want it to surround me with its smell. I close my eyes, push my nose up high and

INHALE

Jasmine and merigold and that night in Delhi. The dew from the Imperial Palace Hotel is thin on my forearms. Palm Springs with grandpa. My feet tingle on the grass. It’s summer. I’m four. Grandpa, you left your club! I’m running across the putting green past the bushes in full bloom. The sun rises in Shanghai. Was it our first day there? You’re watching the jasmine flowers sink to the bottom of your glass. Soft sunrise yellows move across the face of a warrior, sculpted into stone, watching us. A bumble bee rests on a bud. Your hair is wet from the swim. I squeal. Don’t worry, you say, you’re safe. It stings you.

EXHALE.


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