On first sniff the smell of flowers freshly picked in full bloom, quickly dispelled by an olfactory image of working in the garden...a bag of potting soil just opened standing next to a hole dug for a flowering plant.
The scent of the potting soil powerful, earthy, fecund with astringent notes of minerals, the fragrance of the flowers overshadowed by it's bedding partner.
The flower is planted, the hole filled with potting soil, tamped down, watered, the two smells - potting soil and flowers tussle, the potting soil more angular, the flowers more globular, yielding.
Watering and time brings a melding, occasionally a dominant note, the bouquet of earth gentled by water, floral perfume becoming resinous on being joined to the soil.
A tight, slow, intoxicating dance, the interplay of shadow and sunlight, sensual.
Two thumbs up and an important mile marker along the patchouli highway.
24 February, 2012