In my garden, two events signal the arrival of spring: the return of “my” almost-tame, almost-pigeon-sized male robin and the shoots of daffodils emerging from the soil. The robin has been singing, nesting, and begging for food at my home for seven springs and summers — I hope he survived another winter. He’s such an appreciative bird, so encouraging as I cut the thick grass and towering weeds in the yard and expose delicious bugs, provide piles of nest-building materials and toss him earthworms to eat. The daffodils, often blooming in cool, wet weather, smell “chilled”, their fresh green-pollen scent restrained by the nippy, moist air. When the flowers are cut for bouquets and brought inside the warm house, their fragrance grows stronger, sultry, but still possesses a dewy quality.

I have found precious few floral incense blends that smell like real flowers but I keep sniffing…

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