when i was much younger, my grandmother would load up the trunk of her aging volvo sedan (over the years she had at least three, but it didn’t matter what year it was, or how long she’d had the car – it was always aging) with branch trimmings from christmas trees to take to church for her sunday school class. invariably, she’d leave a branch or two in the car, and the sap would perfume the passenger area for months. i loved riding in the back seat then, sitting bundled up in my winter coat and watching the world go by.

it was drizzling this morning as i headed in to work.¹ it was a morning for sipping hot chocolate in front of a picture window at a coffee shop, or at my kitchen table. street scenes or backyard tranquility, the weather and the hour were conspiring to keep me inside – or at least wishing i were.

but i was trudging through the gloom, making my way from the gym on 14th to the office. sidestepping puddles and skirting the occasional bit of trash, my head down and hoodie up. i glanced around occasionally to make sure i wasn’t about to walk into another person (usually not a risk at that hour) or an immovable object (always a risk), and to check for oncoming traffic at the intersections. but mostly head down, watching drops of water arc from the toes of my shoes.

and then i smelled it. it was faint at first, but after a few steps i was in the middle of a cloud of pine-scented heaven. i stopped. i pushed back my hood, straightened my back, and looked around.

the garden district was taking delivery of a shipment of wreaths and what i can only describe as bonsai christmas trees. a few employees were moving the pine boughs from delivery racks into the store, but for a brief moment i was alone, in the rain, surrounded by one of the happiest smells i know.

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¹ actually, it is still drizzling, and if the weather forecast is correct, it’s going to get heavier and heavier until we have a full-blown rainstorm this afternoon.