I was delighted to discover linden trees, Tilia tomentosa, in Thessaloniki last month, and in bloom, smelling so sweet. This month I came across a poem about them.
LINDEN TREE WHISPERS
You know how the linden tree whispers
In the springtime, at night, by the light of the moon?
My love sleeps, my love sleeps,
Let’s go and wake her up, kiss her eyes.
My love sleeps . . .
You heard because of the way the linden tree whispers.
Do you know how the old grove sleeps?
It sees everything, even through the fog.
Here is the moon, here are the stars, the nightingales.
“I am yours,” overheard the old grove.
And those nightingales . . .
Well! You already know, how the old grove sleeps!
-Pavlo Tychyna (1891-1967) Ukraine
Gladsome Lights 
That is a delightfully atmospheric poem!
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Yes! Atmospheric is a good word for it. We have a linden in our back yard, and my brother has had to put stuff on it, because of issues it had. Afterward, I heard the leaves are good in a salad, but we can’t eat them. 😦
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Lindens are worthy of poetry! Our neighbors in Philadelphia had a giant old one that overhung our backyard. In the spring warblers would sing from the top, and in the fall, its heart-shaped leaves would drift onto where the boys played basketball. I miss sitting in its shade!
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I wonder if that’s the kind of tree I smelled the other day. I kept looking around for honeysuckle, with none to be found.
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Having only that single encounter with the scent, I can’t remember it well, but I know I would have liked to stop there to breathe much longer than was possible.
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My daughter had a Linden tree in her former garden. She made a delicious tea from the flowers. Delicately scented. Lovely poem.
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On the Island of Paros I found a box of Linden Flower teabags, and drank a cup almost every night before bed for the next week 🙂
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