I wish I could share an actual scent – words sometimes just aren’t enough. Today, in the first sunshine we’ve had since the Dark Ages I drank in the sweet perfume of Winter Honeysuckle. Literally – I stuck my head into the middle of the shrub and breathed deeply. It was like taking in a draught of pure delight (I soon stopped when I was hailed by a fellow dog walker!) Sadly, though, until someone invents a way of sending scent over the web (a slightly scary idea!) all I can share is a photo:
The Winter Honeysuckle’s lucky – it’s tall and throws its delicious scent out loud and proud and gets itself noticed. Before my nose was hijacked by its sweet aroma, I’d actually been thinking about snowdrops. I’m always cheered when I see them – and I think of my dad. He gave us some from his garden, and they now flourish in ours.
If ever there was ‘…a flower… born to blush unseen, / and waste its sweetness on the desert air’ it’s the snowdrop. It’s so short! You have to take time to appreciate its true essence. A major design flaw, in my view! Snowdrops – tiny but brave. Like people sometimes.
Strangely, neither snowdrops, nor a favourite of my father’s – Lily of the Valley – feature anywhere in CCFs essays about flowers or gardening so far. I’ve still got about 12 or so to read and scan, so we’ll see, but I have a feeling they’re not going to be in the same lyrical vein as ‘An Ideal Garden’ or ‘Some Easily Grown Flowers’.