Between the Larch-woods and the WeirKlickmann, Flora
General
Between the Larch-woods and the Weir
Klickmann, Flora
Country life -- England; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century; Friendship; Household employees
But it would be impossible to name even a fraction of the perfumes
that were floating about that day: everything in Nature had responded
to the welcome sun-warmth; and incense was rising from myriads of
leaf-buds, closely sheathed as yet; from uncountable armies of grass
blades; from flowering moss, and uncurling ferns, and bursting acorns;
from the hundreds of thousands of catkins swinging on the hazels;
from primroses pushing up pink stems and yellow blossoms in sheltered
corners, where they had been protected by drifts of dead leaves. And
probably the leaves of the wild hyacinths, now an inch or so above
ground, had brought up some of the sweet earth-scents from below;
likewise the blue-green leaves of the daffodils just poking through
the soil, and the snowdrop spears, whose white flowers were nodding in
big patches in orchards and front gardens. And it is certain that some
early violets were hiding under their leaves.
It is noticeable that while the scents of autumn are often strong and
bitter, the scents of spring are usually delicate and sweet.
* * * * *
It seems to me that in time we town-dwellers will lose our sense
of smell! The odours that pervade our cities are so surpassingly
abominable, that in sheer self-defence we have to “turn off our nose,”
if you know what I mean by that; we are getting to smell as little as
possible, just as we are getting to breathe as little as possible,
owing to the vitiated air of the great crowded centres; with the result
that we seem to be losing our power to smell sensitively and keenly, as
well as our power to breathe deeply.
In town, the winds and the seasons seem only distinguishable by the
grade of one’s underwear. Outer garments are no guide, for in December
and January one meets bare chests in the public thoroughfares and
transparent gowns indoors; while in August, with equal suitability, we
trim a chiffon blouse with fur! (and, by the way, it is instructive to
recall the fact that it was a German Court dressmaker who first set
going the inappropriate, vulgar, inartistic fashion of trimming frail
transparent dress materials with fur).
If you live in clean fresh air, however, you know the seasons by their
odours, and it is possible to distinguish with absolute certainty the
four winds of heaven by their scent, just as at sea you can smell land,
or an iceberg, before it is anywhere within sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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