And it was - it summoned my first encounter with lavender, when at 18 I walked into a shop that sold herbs and found lavender - that English scent beloved of old ladies in literature.
I found it opening me, in a lovely heartbreaking way, and I thought of all the fields of flowers I've seen in my life - sunflowers in France and Iowa, the hills of Tejon Pass madly foaming with spring desert flowers, the poppy reserve in the Mojave dense with shimmering orange waves. The hills of the Cleveland national forest clad in goldfields.
And I prayed that I would see them once again before I died.
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