The weather took quite a turn yesterday (Sunday). All last week, it was stretching to reach 60. Beautiful weather for a gardener in the spring, actually; plenty of overcast, cool days to go out and work comfortably, in weather that was gentle on plants being divided/transplanted/attended to.
If you had been eyeballing an unusually tall thermometer, and putting those eyeballs at level with the top of the mercury, and found yourself squatting a bit to meet those temperatures...well...yesterday was your chance to straighten up.
One degree shy of 90.
Aiy yi yiy.
I was heading out to meet a friend...had to put on real clothes, and had another meet up following...and I wanted to be scented. But, despite the chatter that's been going on recently about how awesome it is to experience a heady floral or oud-y wonder in the full on heat -- yes, Denyse, I agree that there's a reason why that's the weather Nature chooses for opening up those beauties in the garden -- I wasn't ready to put my head in that space. This was just Too Soon.
I went for cool. Not cool-me-off-in-summer citrus. Or cool green. But, the uncanny rooty cool of iris root, unsweetened, straight up. Which one? The one that some people complain is too grey, too rooty, too austere. Hermes Hiris.
This is the one that I long ago wrote about taking up to the northern woods, and found that it suited the shady green near the water environment. A complement, as it were, to my natural context. As if I were one with what I was moving about in.
Yesterday, the note was the same, but in a different tune. This time, instead of a harmonious third, it went to a full 7th. Starting on the 7th, filling the chord out from there. Slightly in tension against the hot, humid air, as if going to my arm were like finding the shady spot under some ferns. A welcome respite, which did not clash with what was going on around me, but offered yet another tone to the whole.
I'm not a fan of hot and humid. In general, I find it oppressive and somewhat boring. I love that characters in books--especially mysteries, hmmm--are sometimes all about digging the vibe that you find in the slowed down but thick and heightened miasma of, say, the bayou. I love that people love that. I don't love that.
I do love having the option of spritzing on Hiris.
Score one for once loved bottles waiting patiently in the drawer, waiting for their moment again.