If only you could smell a picture…
The last day of holiday. Normandy. Standing outside between rain showers in a fleeting moment of sunshine. The smell hits you and it is just so perfect, redolent of the summer that has gone.
Lavender.
The last blossoms, almost drying on the stem. Perhaps that drying accentuates the smell? I doubt it but it would be nice to think so. The last smell of holiday as September ushers in the start of autumn.
The Picture
This was just taken from the position of a small bench that we have sat on when the sun has been shining although it was too wet this time due to the recent shower. The buds are clearly drying out. If this was Provence they would have perhaps already been harvested some time ago but this is Normandy and they are still here, smelling wonderful.
That Smell
It may be edging toward autumn but lavender is, for me, spring and summer. The last scent of a holiday that is coming to a close. It is so fragrant and gently overpowers any other odour if you rub your hand in it. Not aggressive, not harsh. Rounded albeit with a subtle edge of perfume.
Difficult to describe yet so comforting. Inhale it and you are lost in fields of green. The sky is blue, albeit with the occasional wisp of a cloud. Nothing to hear except the grasses whispering, the quiet chatter of insects. Maybe the distant song of birds.
Perhaps the hint of a voice? Someone talking? A distant car?
Leave that for tomorrow. When that will be all you can hear. Enjoy the silence.
And that smell. The holiday will fade in the memory, but that smell.
If only a picture could smell.