I'm sitting at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to my acupuncturist's, and the air is filled with the scent of sweet alyssum. You'd think there must be flowerbeds full of it as far as the eye can see. When I looked around to find the source, however, it turned out to be coming from two small, six-inch clumps of the plants.
Twenty feet away.
It reminds me of a gardenia bush outside the front door of one of the houses my mom rented when she'd just moved to Chico. That summer, we had to keep all the windows on the front of the house closed at night if we didn't want to get headaches from the enveloping cloud of gardenia fragrance.