My neighbor's gardenia bush is blooming.  It perfumes the entire street, and when I walk by, I close my eyes and feel as though I float.  I want to bury my face in the blooms, absorb the scent and take it with me, keep it with me.  It's just not possible.  In another week, the heat will take its toll, but come autumn, it will bloom, and again my street will smell heavenly.