Week 24 of PBP.

There is nothing like driving past a hedge of lilacs in bloom with the windows rolled down. It’s incomparable. The only thing more fun is standing amidst them in the rain, letting the water roll down over glossy leaves and splash on your face.

These are the flowers of my maternal line. My mother brought the white lilacs from her family home in Pennsylvania. It’s a stubborn plant, growing in a place that should be too shady, and blooming anyway. It’s always been smaller than its purple neighbors, but I’ve always been very fond of it because of its history.

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