It's funny how the most random things can make you homesick.

At home there is a huge gardenia bush on either side of the stairs leading up to the front porch. They bloom in the summertime and I've always thought that they smell horrid. The flowers are really pretty. They have nice, big, white petals. And a very strong scent. My mother loves them. A lot of people who would come to our house and walk past (more like through, because they were so overgrown that they draped onto the stairs) them would comment on how they liked their scent and my mother would insist that they take a few of the flowers with them to scent their car or kitchen or whatever location they chose. Meanwhile I would gag in the background complaining about the egregious stench.

Today I was working at the Cluff, the greenhouse building on campus. As I was locking up I was walking through one of the greenhouses and a familiar bush caught my eye. I approached it and inspected it more closely, and sure enough there were those pretty white flowers indicating that it was a gardenia. I bent close to one of the blossoms and inhaled deeply. Though I would still never choose to scent my house or car or anything with the smell of gardenias, there is something oddly comforting about that smell. It made me ache for my childhood home, if only for a second.