1930's UK Bisto Magazine Advert
I stand gazing over the cliff-top, looking far out towards the horizon. I take a deep breath and the tang of the sea hits me. I’m reminded of harbours, rocks, seashells and coconut sun tan lotion. They are some of my oldest and favourite smells. After a few minutes I turn inland, the path draws me onwards. Soon I am weaving between tall oak trees which later in the year will be laden with acorns. My black Labrador trots ahead, nose down eagerly exploring every bush and hole he comes to. The sun feels warm on my skin and hovers high in the sky so that I’m unable to see my own shadow along the walking path. I enter the ancient woodland and the scent and sight that greets me is simply gorgeous. Wherever I look, under my feet, stretching ahead, I am standing in a midst of bluebells. The dog doesn’t linger. Unlike me, he is trotting in front, his nose twitching in the breeze, searching for hints of friend or foe or perhaps crumbs left behind from a toddler’s clumsy grasp. I move through this sea of bluebonnets, which sway in the gentle wind.
I reach the end of the wood and begin my descent into the valley. Briars on either side form an impenetrable wall. I think ahead to September when the deep purple, luscious and sweet blackberries will be ripening in the late summer sun, giving off that unmistakable syrupy aroma of seasonal fruit.
I reach the farm nestling in the hollow of the valley and walk through the barn. I breathe in the fragrance of freshly thrown hay, mingling with that of warm day old calves and milk. At the end of the barn there is a tack room, where the harnesses and saddles are gleaming with polish, and with the unmistakeable whiff of horse sweat and old-used leather. It reminds me of walking through a shoe store with row upon row of expensive leather shoes just waiting to be tried on and bought.
I think of home and double my steps as I sniff the air and watch the smoke from the chimney drift away on the breeze. I know there will be a new log burning brightly in the hearth, sparks rising and an apple smell from the wood permeating through the house.
In the kitchen, I greet my mate and breathe in his own particular man-smell of musk. He’s just removing a batch of freshly-baked bread and lemon drizzle cake from the oven and my salivary glands quiver as the mixed scents assail my nostrils.
Bacon is popping and sputtering on the hob and a jug of freshly-brewed coffee is standing on the kitchen table.
My daughter walks in the room, baby resting against her hip. I move to greet them, enveloping them in my embrace and basking in the fragrance of my grandson’s hair, sweet and clean from infant shampoo.
Later, at the end of the day, I clamber into bed and draw up freshly-laundered sheets around my neck. The bouquet of the garden; floral and honey mingle with today’s washing powder. Finally, I bury my nose in a mug of whipped chocolate before turning off the lamp and thinking we can find a dream among the scents, they are only a breath away.
Thank you for dropping by and reading my latest blog-post about my favourite scents. Have a think about your own - some are so evocative.
Have a great day everyone and thanks for all your wonderful support.
Faithx
I reach the end of the wood and begin my descent into the valley. Briars on either side form an impenetrable wall. I think ahead to September when the deep purple, luscious and sweet blackberries will be ripening in the late summer sun, giving off that unmistakable syrupy aroma of seasonal fruit.
I reach the farm nestling in the hollow of the valley and walk through the barn. I breathe in the fragrance of freshly thrown hay, mingling with that of warm day old calves and milk. At the end of the barn there is a tack room, where the harnesses and saddles are gleaming with polish, and with the unmistakeable whiff of horse sweat and old-used leather. It reminds me of walking through a shoe store with row upon row of expensive leather shoes just waiting to be tried on and bought.
I think of home and double my steps as I sniff the air and watch the smoke from the chimney drift away on the breeze. I know there will be a new log burning brightly in the hearth, sparks rising and an apple smell from the wood permeating through the house.
In the kitchen, I greet my mate and breathe in his own particular man-smell of musk. He’s just removing a batch of freshly-baked bread and lemon drizzle cake from the oven and my salivary glands quiver as the mixed scents assail my nostrils.
Bacon is popping and sputtering on the hob and a jug of freshly-brewed coffee is standing on the kitchen table.
My daughter walks in the room, baby resting against her hip. I move to greet them, enveloping them in my embrace and basking in the fragrance of my grandson’s hair, sweet and clean from infant shampoo.
Later, at the end of the day, I clamber into bed and draw up freshly-laundered sheets around my neck. The bouquet of the garden; floral and honey mingle with today’s washing powder. Finally, I bury my nose in a mug of whipped chocolate before turning off the lamp and thinking we can find a dream among the scents, they are only a breath away.
Thank you for dropping by and reading my latest blog-post about my favourite scents. Have a think about your own - some are so evocative.
Have a great day everyone and thanks for all your wonderful support.
Faithx
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