Last night, I happened upon a garden that smelled so delightful that I wanted to pull it up to my face like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. The earth was crowded with Daffodils, their flowers like little trumpets, and tulips with petals still shyly closed against the darkening sky. I was teased by the light notes of honeysuckle that came in wisps on the evening breeze, causing me to take long deep breaths. The Magnolias, too, are in blossom – my favorite sign of spring for they bring rushing back many wonderful memories. I am reminded of lazy April afternoon moments between classes at Barnard when we’d sprawl beneath the tree on Lehman Lawn and watch the full, pregnant blossoms widen with the warmer weather and float to the ground below. There is nothing so lovely as a girl with a Magnolia blossom tucked and twined in her hair.