Frangipani-ed

I’ve always loved these flowers, and now they have an added poignancy as there’s a tree growing just by my mother’s final resting place. But I can’t smell its scent as I sit by her grave ... there’s the most amazing orange blossom bush nearby who’s heady fragrance entwines itself in the late afternoon heat. Even though emotions are still so very raw, there’s a sense of peace in the air, only interrupted by the faint murmurings of prayers and lively birdsong.