Fragrance Quote for February 19th, 2012- Scent of Rain Washed Lilac By Mabel Barnes-Grundy

Scent of Rain Washed Lilac By Mabel Barnes-Grundy

When I turned my gaze to the left, and looked below the lock down stream, lo! my cool green river had turned into blue, for here the willows were few, and the blue of the sky had it all its own way, with no spreading, swaying trees to mar its azure reflection. In front of me was the lockisland, stretching away for half a mile,— a narrow strip of vivid green—powdered with white daisies and golden buttercups, and here was my third river, running round the island—a river of silver—dancing along in the sunshine, sparkling and leaping over the rapids, gurgling against the stones, splashing diamond drops over the clump of forget-me-nots, as it swiftly turns the tail of the island and splits up into two more baby rivers—one wandering away to Silent Stream, a dreamy, drowsy backwater, and the other continuing its headlong course by the side of the island, till catching sight of the blue, sedate river below the lock it checks its speed and gradually merges into and is swallowed up by the main stream. And as if to make my pleasure absolutel ycomplete, as I sat there swinging in the sunshine, the scent of lilacs was wafted to me from the little garden at the side of the lock-house. I think there is nothing more beautiful than the scent of rain-washed lilac. Just to lay your cheek against the wet blossom and—closing your eyes—inhale its exquisite fragrance seems to me like a bit of heaven. And when I lay me down to die, I would like some kind friend—instead of reading the Bible or saying a prayer over me—just to lay a bough of dewy lilac—if it be possible to get—on my pillow and another in my hands, and leave the rest to the Lord, for surely the scent of wet lilac is one of the treasures of the kingdom of God, and would help and comfort one more in the dark, lonely crossing of the Valley, than any prayer made by man.