If you have ever walked the streets of Seville in the early evening on a warm spring night, you will identify with this smell. It is the perfume of the azahar, of Andalusia. Of romantic evenings strolling cobblestone streets lit by iron lanterns. It is illusion. Youth. Romance. Freedom.
But for Diego, the scent is bittersweet. It is passion. Pain. A heavy reminder of his loss. And eventually, healing.
The scent of the orange blossom is not one I grew up with in New England. But I have grown to love the delicate aroma of this fragrant flower. I love the sweet, seductive, tropical smell of it. The way it floats on the air on a warm spring night. The way it announces the intoxicating olfactory arrival of spring. Of Easter and Semana Santa. To me, the orange blossom takes me back to a special time in my life when I was young and in love. To the magical city of Seville.
For many of us, the scent is the story.
Are you as passionate about scent as I am? Please share your favorite scents with our readers by leaving a comment below.