Kathryn Nicolai

Small tables were also set up here and there, tucked in beside the entrance, and a few running down the sidewalk for smaller, home-run businesses and makers.

There was a coffee cart in the parking lot, an ice cream truck at the curb, and a few pop-up stands selling empanadas and onigiri and flavored iced teas.

The air had warmed a good bit since I'd been picking flowers in the early morning, and everyone who passed by looked to be enjoying it.

It was like watching a battery charge.

or a time-lapse video of a plant after it's been watered.

They lifted their faces to the light, and weight seemed to lift from their shoulders.

I liked looking out at them as I arranged lilacs into vases.

We thought about just wrapping the bouquets in newspaper, tying them with ribbon, but we guessed many of the flowers sold would be gifted.

And handing someone a bouquet that needs to be recut and arranged is a bit like gifting someone a chore.

In our vases, they would be ready to set on any table or windowsill, just as they were.

And once I put the word out that I was looking for donated vases...

Lots of folks turned out to have way more than we could use, so we hadn't needed to spend a cent to upgrade our blooms for our customers.

We'd prepared a few dozen vases and set them out in rows and bunches in our booths.

My helpers were ready, with change in their aprons, and soon we had our first customers.

the way they were transported instantly to some other time and place by the perfume.

Many told us of the lilac tree they'd had in their backyard growing up, or how it was their aunt's favorite flower, how those memories had come rushing back

with one breath of this scent.

It was something I'd heard so many times and knew myself to be true.

By midday, we were down to our last three buckets of blooms, and I was putting together vases of them as fast as I could.

We told customers about my farmhouse in the country