Thought of the Day: The Scent of Spring and the Ache of Impermanence

The Tragic Gift of Transience

Thought of the Day : The truth is, it will never last as long as you want it to.
Question of the Day: What smell do you most associate with Spring?

There’s a deep ache in that truth. A soft, echoing kind of pain. The kind you feel when a favorite season fades or a child outgrows your lap. It’s not tragedy in the traditional sense—no sharp edges, no finality. Just the quiet sorrow of something beautiful slipping through your fingers before you were ready to let it go.

Spring is the season that most embodies that feeling. It blooms with life, promise, and color—but you blink, and it’s gone. The blossoms fall, the newness wears off, and the heat of summer comes creeping in.

And every year, we hope it lingers a little longer.

What Smell Do You Most Associate with Spring?

Scent is the ghost of experience. It sneaks past your guard and grabs you by the memory. You smell something and suddenly you’re there—in a childhood backyard, in a high school hallway, at the edge of a perfect day you didn’t know you’d remember for the rest of your life.

For me, spring it’s the sweet smell of the dewy air in the and the fragrance of outdoor fire pits drifting on the gentle breeze. Stepping outside in the spring, the days somehow smells fresher, like clothes right out of the dryer.

Maybe for you it’s fresh laundry flapping on the line. Or your mom’s cleaning spray. Or the cracked vinyl of your first car after sitting in the sun. Maybe it’s cut grass, or lilac, or Easter ham.

Whatever it is, you feel it. And it connects you not just to the season, but to a version of yourself that you might’ve forgotten.

Why the Best Things Don’t Last

It’s not a flaw—it’s the design. The reason we remember the first signs of spring so vividly is because they’re temporary. If the blooms never fell, we’d stop looking up at them.

Spring is a reminder to pay attention. To cherish what’s happening right now. To stop scrolling and smell whatever smells like life to you.

This truth—that nothing lasts—isn’t just sad. It’s sacred. The brevity of things gives them weight.
Like this moment.
Like this breath.

Need more reminders like this? You might enjoy this reflection on holding on vs. letting go.

Hold On Anyway

The secret is to love the thing anyway.
Even though it won’t last.
Especially because it won’t.

Let spring break your heart a little this year. Let it remind you that you’re alive. That you can still be moved. That even after long winters—literal or emotional—something beautiful always returns.

And when it does, breathe it in deep.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

I want to hear about the smells that bring your spring to life. The odd, specific, deeply personal scents that unlock memories you didn’t know were still there.

Drop a comment and let me know.
And if you felt something from today’s post—share it. Someone you know might need to be reminded to step outside and smell their life happening.