![]() ![]() The tree lays a calming green hand on anxiety’s brow, tranquilizes the neural pathways of pain, and weaves its aromas into the fractures in our central nervous systems. Herbalists and biochemists agree: tinctures and teas made from the flowers or leaves of basswood and its sibling, linden, soothe our harried nerves. From tens of thousands of tiny creamy mouths, the tree exhales its spell. The tree is a giant, rooted in a roadside park across four lanes of gunning engines from our window. A hint of lemon rind rolls close behind.Īll week, the street air is drunk on basswood flowers. Then, one morning in June, honey and wild rose reach through the window. Its exhalations cling high in my nose, a bitter sinus-cloud. The ice-cream truck across the street runs its generator all day, into the night. The fumes rise from the bus stop directly under the fourth-floor apartment. ![]() ![]() We crack the windows on summer’s first warm days. ![]()
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