It happened so fast. A few days ago, clusters of lilac blossoms hung heavy on on every branch and twig of every lilac shrub, the air around them fragrant and perfumed. Now, they are brown, brittle, color and scent gone from the flowers, as spring prepares to become summer.

The scent of lilacs reminds me of my grandmother, who died many (50?) years ago. I know she wore lilac-scented perfume back then, because the memory-connection is so strong and vivid for me. I think olfactory memories are among the most powerful, refusing to fade over time, continuing to trigger memories of specific people, places, and moments.

When lilacs bloom in mid-May, I always think of Lily Mercer Murray who:

• Was born in Liverpool,
• Was a brave young nurse on the front lines of the Big War,
• Immigrated to Canada and worked off her debt,
• Traveled south and settled in Astoria, Queens (NYC),
• Raised two boys (including my father),
• Moved to Ossining on the Hudson River, and
• Often smelled of lilac…

Camera: iPhone 11pro
Editing: Hipstamatic app
Photographer: Russ Murray aka “remages”
Location: Somewhere in Stamford, CT

See you tomorrow… 

// russ murray