When life ain't pretty

The scent of the unexpected




Today as I ran in the woods the normally dry, hard ground felt soft and damp beneath my feet. The recent rain has awakened this woodland, the ivy and holly are glossy with raindrops, the fallen leaves smell sweet and earthy like rich, fresh compost. This familiar trail has been rendered strange and different in rainfall. The dogs know it too, their noses twitching all the while, tails held high, ears pricked for signs of life.




As I rounded the top corner of the woodland the most incredible scent filled my nostrils. Warm, mossy honeysuckle and rose. It unnerved me initially, so unexpected, so wrong in November. It was deeper and more grown up than the scent of Spring and Summer, a very last few flowers clinging on for life in these dimly lit days, somehow awakened and invigorated by the rainfall. I really cannot tell you how wonderful it was, like that very particular smell of a re-discovered favourite wool sweater. Layer upon layer of scent that can never quite be removed by occasional washing. Memories immediately sharpened.




I came home and sprayed myself liberally with Joy and re-visited my well thumbed copy of Perfumes: The A-Z Guide . I spent a rather happy coffee break lost in fragrances remembered.