Within a half hour of returning from a trip late this afternoon, I got into the appropriate duds, jumped on the mountain bike and took a twelve-mile ride before supper. The route was a favorite, along one of the irrigation canals carrying the water that allows this high desert valley to bloom. For long stretches, the margins of the path are graced with lilacs, clouds of lilacs, in parks, yards, the borders of orchards, vacant lots. The blossoms range from purest white through pink, lavender, mauve and magenta down to an indigo that approaches black.
The light slanted across the lilacs as the sun lowered toward the peaks of the Cascade range. The scent of the blooms intensified in the evening air and, without having been near a glass of wine, I came home in a state of slight intoxication.