On Saturday our friend, Jake, cleared away all the weeds and leaves that had pretty much taken over our patio, and it looks good.
Now the moment has arrived to beautify the bare plots of dirt by (finally) planting some greenery. Our landscaper friend, Tim, recommended Vanilla Plant (also known as Sarcococca ruscifolia), Daphne Odora, and Boxwood as being drought tolerant, deer resistant, easy to grow, and hard to kill.
Sounds perfect!
We’re planning to stop at the nursery tomorrow after my labs. I’m excited.
On my walk this evening I was suddenly halted in my tracks by the smell of a sweet scent. I couldn’t identify where it was coming from, but it was unmistakable.
And I was just as suddenly transported to other moments, other locations, but the same experience…
There was the time I was waiting at the front entrance of the old SF Conservatory of Music building (at 19th Ave and Ortega) on a warm evening in late spring/early summer. There were a number of plants in bloom, all combining to make a subtle but overwhelmingly beautiful scent.
Then there was the smell of freesias blooming in front yards as my first husband, Randy, and I strolled the streets of Pacific Grove.
Freesias
And the first time I truly understood the phrase “sweet grasses” was on pilgrimage at Newgrange, in County Meath, Ireland. It was summer and we had been blessed with beautiful weather during our time in Ireland. It was my first time visiting England, Wales, and Ireland, and I had never experienced meadow grasses like that. The smell was intoxicating.
And, finally, when I lived in San Francisco, there was a certain kind of boxwood hedge that bloomed in early spring, but with really insignificant flowers. I would be walking along and — just like today — be suddenly halted in my tracks as I tried to locate where the amazing scent was coming from.
If I close my eyes I can almost recapture it, even after all these years.
