Hugh Hollowell

I have adjusted well to living here in Raleigh. The weather is nice, the people are friendly and while they don’t eat real bar-b-que, overall the food is good. However, last week I had a huge, overwhelming feeling of homesickness.

I smelled honeysuckle.

I had commented several times on how I had not seen any honeysuckle here. Back home, it is everywhere. Last week, however, I almost fell off my bike when I saw (and smelled) a whole fence row full of it.

My favorite honeysuckle memory: I am about 12 years old. My friend (and virtual sister) Jo and I are out exploring and we decide to walk up Gatewood road to see the pond on the Thompson’s place. Mind you, we had no fishing equipment, but just seeing a pond had to count for something. Anyway…

There was a stretch of maybe 200 yards where both sides of the road were lined with honeysuckle. The smell was a lot like heaven, and Jo and I were sucking the honey out of the flowers. We never did make it to the pond that day; we were captivated by the honeysuckle.