As I walked down my driveway this morning to collect the newspaper, I could smell the scent of spring. I can’t identify precisely the source of this scent; perhaps it’s the new shoots on my hibiscus, the buds on the cacti, or the faint green leaves on the bougainvillea. Whatever the origin, the smell is rich and heady, almost tangible in its impact. We take island odors so much for granted—the salt spray of the beach, the sun on hot pine needles, the sea-smell of crushed shells, the iodine scent of seaweed heaped on the shoreline. I forget, Lord, to thank you for the gifts of our senses, those avenues to perception that help us love one another and the world around us. Today I thank you that I can breathe in proof of your goodness and love, a rich aroma demonstrating your generosity, the beauty you routinely extend to us. Thank you, Lord. Amen.