I can't go back and I don't want to.

Have I mentioned how much I love that Celeste is blogging again? Well, on Twitter sure. But here? This place is dusty with cobwebs and neglected ambitions. Her recent post One Hundred Word Wednesday: Hibiscus reminded me 1) that short is sweet and 2) of my own childhood. Have you read it yet? Go on. I'll wait.

Growing up in San Diego, I too was a destroyer of hibiscus flowers. Along with honeysuckle, geraniums, and lemon grass. To this day the scent of a geraniums takes me right back to 1272 Santa Barbara Street, in the side yard next to the house where my mom, aunts and uncle all grew up, playing in the dirt, singing songs to myself, taking the days of unending sunshine with a sweet breeze for granted.

I like the seasons too much to ever move back there. But it still makes me nostalgic and feels bittersweet.

Comments

[Amy]

I grew up just north of San Diego and destroyed hibiscus flowers and lemon blossoms. The lemon blossoms smeared together with the eucalyptus leaves from the backyard was too irresistable (when you're 7, that's what you do, you smear them together). Your post and Celeste's made me homesick and nostalgic, in a good way.

[Celeste]

I feel the exact same way about the seasons, but there is just that thread of longing for warm tropical weather and impossible blossoms that makes me just wanna be home. Not home now, home when I grew up. You know, with the less people and the cooler cars and the totally insane fashion. Hawai'i. The seventies. Oh man, there was no better time than that. (You know, nostalgia is a wonderful addiction.)

[Maya]

The smell of geraniums reminds me of being forced to water them all the time for my father growing up. Never liked the smell. That being said, we are heading out tomorrow to buy a bunch for our balcony because they are pretty and ward of mosquitoes. One must have priorities! :-)