Early in the morning on the warm spring air, scent drifts through the garden chores and speaks to me of Mom.
And I remember the bottle with the French name that sat on her dressing table tray. She taught us to take the tiniest bit on a finger and daintily apply it to wrist and neck. Muguet Des Bois Eau de Toilette.
I only pick a few Lily of the Valley blooms but they are enough to bring back her smile and her laughter this spring morning.
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What a lovely tribute to your Mom, Elaine. I remember my mother’s perfume–Shalimar. I’d go into her bedroom and smell it. I can’t remember now if I ever put it on or not. I loved the shape of the bottle just as much!