The faint sweet smell of the fields carried for miles.

i was at Trader Joe's a few days ago.

it's my place for flowers.

so i bought a few simple, sweet bouquets

and every day this week, the fragrance from

these flowers

has given me a pause for times before

to one of my favorite memories growing up in Phoenix.

the Japanese Gardens.

we would go for a drive along baseline road 

(we lived close..48th street between McDowell and Van Buren streets)

we would roll the windows down and OH MY......

the fragrance of all the stock was overwhelming to the senses

(in a good way)

and the color was a sight for the eyes.

thankful for moments that take us back in time

to days that were simpler, beautiful and a part of our tapestry.

~a bit of history~

"On Baseline Road and 38th Street there’s a flower shop filled with colorful arrangements. This is not any ordinary shop. It sits on the site of an original Japanese flower garden. It was a Phoenix attraction that caught the attentions of tourists for decades.The flowers like sweet peas, calendulas, and other annuals grown on Baseline Road supplied much of the country.

Throughout the 1960s and ’70s the flower farms were a tourist attraction, 

They were noted for their fragrance and the surprise of color 

in the middle of the brown desert.

 If Arizona brings to mind sand and heat, 

the Japanese flower gardens defied this expectation.

The gardens were located on Baseline Road, 

which initially divided the north and south portions of the city.

 A 16-block stretch, the fields turned the desert into a blanket

 of unexpected bright fuchsia, light yellow, off-white,

 pale pink and violet-lavender.

In spring, driving west along Baseline Road

 from 48th through 32nd Street, you would pass field after field 

of colorful, long-stemmed flowers called stocks;

 kale; sweet peas the color of jelly beans;

 and flowering purple-gray cabbages.

 The faint sweet smell of the fields carried for miles.
  Many today don’t 
know the history of the Japanese-Americans in south Phoenix,
 but every once in a while someone will stop in to reminisce
 and share a memory of the gardens and the farmers
 who turned rocks and dirt into a destination spot.
 In Japanese, we call this feeling natsukashi —“sweet memories.”