I have two mountain laurels in my front yard. One of them is blooming, and I have been loving it. There is nothing like the smell of a mountain laurel tree in bloom. It's sort of a grape kool-aid smell, but underneath that are notes of something else. I have yet to identify what it is, even after all these years, but I am in no hurry. I may figure it out, I may not. Still, I feel that it is necessary to stop and smell the mountain laurel while you can.
It means that spring is about to show up here in these parts. The arrival of the barn swallows outside our front door will clinch it.
