Travel By Night

Last week, when I was walking under a snarling wolf moon, I was happy to be in the light of its canine humor.  It loomed large and feral, and I was content.

But after I had walked some distance, when I had crossed several depthless streets, I noticed something else.  Something sweet and stunning, yet quite invisible.  It was a perfume, so strong and close, I thought Mdme. Chanel was near – wafting the pretty mathematics of No. 5 under my nose.

But I did not see the moist gleam of her pearls.  I did not see her figure – thin and elite, exclusively Parisian – at my side.  I was alone.

I stopped.  I walked back, and breathed deeply.  The perfume I wear daily had quite worn away; my skin had shrugged off the artificial pear blossoms – its light annoyance – hours ago.  No, it wasn't me.

But I soon did discover the source of the surprising scent.  I saw them in shadows:  long stalks, ending in cupped petals that held a cologne escaping into the grateful air.  Flowers, of course.  But I did not expect botany's unseen grace to endure into the night.

Maybe the moon is an explanation.  After all, the tides have always yearned for her.  Their maritime desire travels through space and spins through galaxies, before becoming caught in her axis.  Maybe the scents of a garden undergo the same tortuous journey:  traveling by night in scented currents, following a starry map.

Perhaps the flowers that bloom at night simply can't help it.  Perhaps the longings that live deep within their chlorophyll flesh are lifted into the sky, before they are woven into the fabric of a distant, coveteous constellation.

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11 responses to “Travel By Night

  1. how perfectly, absolutely lovely. intoxicating, really, this lunar floral stroll.

  2. Chanel was near – wafting the pretty mathematics of No. 5 under my nose.This made me think of a cloud of numbers floating by. I kind of like that image.

  3. This makes me miss spring in Florida, where every street is a perfumery.

  4. It sounds lovely! whilst we are getting even more snow…I can't wait for spring to come!

  5. Love this explaination. The pull of the moon seems to affect every living being in "earshot". Flowers certainly must feel in tune with the cycles.

  6. The scent of blossoms at night always seems extra special – perhaps it's because there are no other distractions in the dark.

  7. am i the only one going nuts because i don't know exactly what type of flowers you were smelling??!! WHAT WERE THEY?! I MUST KNOW!! loli love when the fruit trees are in blossom on a hot night.

  8. Waterbaby – thank you so much; it started out as a story about being stunned by the flowers to one about the flowers being victimized by the moon. Don't know how that happened!
    M—–l – it's a charming image; I would like to see it rendered in red ink, please.
    Redz – Florida intimidates me; the richness of its heat and color I fear would overwhelm me.
    fatcat – we're getting another dousing of rain; it's a little dreary – but I already miss autumn!
    Lavender – thank you so much!
    Emmi – it's an idea that occured to me as I wrote; it makes perfect sense, doesn't it?
    Emjay – mysterious too; I kept seeing filigrees of scent curling – art nouveau-like – into the air.
    LeendaDLL – can't answer that!!! I did a little searching, and came up with nothing. The stems are long, and the petals are yellow, curling upwards – like a cup.
    Fruit trees – yes, very tantalizing.

  9. We have a yellow daffodil…on a healthy plant…an exquisit smell…A beautiful enduring flower…Night Jasmine…after walking amongst Eucalyptus…smelling the relief of that beautiful plant…after the acrid smell of 50 variations…the calm…the comic beauty of the surprised squirrel…and the arms out for an apple raccoon…In a night walk…under the moon…ringed from the rain…refracting to blend the senses…the earth moving…memories of Carol King singing…and the 19th century comes alive again…Peace Tony

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