For me, the Smelly Month of May started with daffodils. And rain, and dirt, and crabapple blossoms.
Then came a road trip. The smell of the air on the Taconic parkway, detergent and stale water in a car wash.
Alliums, with the one revealing itself to be a maturing morpher. Starts out vaguely ozonic, hint of vegetation decay with a whiff of onion. Turns into intoxicating sweetness.
And then, there are the deep purple ones, which have a hint of grape. Fake grape. But not at all fake. Very huffable.
Homecoming. More dirt. Hyacinths. Tulips. Winter onions pulled and spring onions planted.
Oh, yes, you potent permeating thing. Viburnum carlesii, you reek. In a knock you over with white flowers of the northern latitudes way.
Tartarian honeysuckle, which like certain perfumes (remember my time with Apercu?), registers best from a distance. A new potted rose for planting, with full blooms while those in the ground are still working on shoots.
Lilacs, and more rain.
Just rain, rain + pavement + traffic, rain + fake car air. Rain in freshly cut grass. Rain, just rain.
Rhubarb. Sweet alyssum for tucking her and there. Sweet woodruff, late for May Wine on May Day but welcome always.
Scented geranium starts.
Always dirt.
Always something new.
And, of course, the irises. Irises come, like pallida and some of the german bearded. Smells of sharp lemon and soft sweet lemon chiffon and an impossibly lilting sweet grape.
I have not been with words much in May. I have been some with perfumes.
But I have been much, much with smells.
I hope you had a good month. See you in June.
all images author's own
2 comments:
Enjoyed this very much, and the mental image of you sniffing your way through your month.
I want to come play in your garden, too. The CEO "weeded" the front walk planting area, where I usually put annuals, via Weedeater. This was fine. But he also "weeded" near the house without asking if that was okay, and he killed three clematis vines. Aaaarggh. He didn't know that the Henryi ones bloom on old vines and look terrible until they sprout the new year's growth. I am bummed. And ticked. If he'd just *asked* me! He knocked back some Shasta daisies, too, but they seem to be recovering already.
Yesterday and the day before, I was outside much of the day, hanging out laundry and weeding and mowing, and it just smells so good outside: honeysuckle and locust blossoms and grass and dirt and hay drying and the last of the peonies. Gorgeous.
Thanks, Muse. And you can come play anytime.
Honeysuckle? Mmmmmmm. Waiting for mine...the locust blossoms are but a promise...and hay doesn't happen in my corner of dirt and stuff, though I love finding it, both out in the landscape and in my perfume. :) Have a laundry hanging thingie that I am going to install this year; there really is something fabulous about clothes and sheets--oh, sheets!!--dried outside.
My first peony just opened. Beautiful to eye and nose. Nose-wise, it's about the only place I really like a soapy smell. :)
You will notice I've avoided the weeding story. Because *youch!,* I feel your pain. Especially the patient waiting for the clematis, unecessarily re-necessitated.
Post a Comment