The scent of heaven

I have the good fortune of living in a part of the world that is filled with perfume at this time of year. It comes from the blossoms on orange trees. The trees that are typically quite shiny with their dark leaves, now look as though snow has dusted over them. They are covered in white blossoms, the fragrance of which is sweeter and more delightful than any other pleasant scent I have found in nature.

My daily commute takes me down several roads that are lined on either side with orange groves. Since the trees have begun to bloom, I have made it a practice to open my windows and inhale deeply as I slowly drive through. I'm sure that some people who are driving in the opposite direction think I've lost my mind--my head hanging out of the car window, me looking like a goldfish, breathing in with an exaggerated movement of my head. But there is no other way to savor this wonderful aroma.

As I've gone through these groves, the wind blowing through the car (and my hair being blown to bits), I've often wondered whether heaven smells like this. All of heaven, not just the little pockets of good smells, but the entire place. And maybe I won't have to work so hard to get to the scent: opening all the windows, trying to catch a waft of air, etc. Yes, in heaven I think that everything is perfect: looks good, sounds good, smells good. So in my book, orange blossoms are part of the picture. I surely hope so.

Only a God could create something so exquisite.