July 13

Midsummer perfumes are almost overwhelming just now. In winter, the senses long for some semblance of life and renewal, when the forceful wind carries virtually no scents. Spring’s awakening spoke of Earthly promise, of moist humus and rain-covered roads, turned fields that would one day deliver provender enough.

Now we are awash in the scents of maturity, content that the promise of spring has been fulfilled, delivering us from the isolations of our winter hibernation. Here is a sample:

Milkweed continues in full bloom, and when combined with the clover and hay grass creates a unique sweetness.

The dark forests wasp balsam and fir, which mix with the cover greens of ferns that thrive in the shady coolness.

The farmer’s market displays blueberries, raspberries, and peaches, each worth their appearance in taste and smell.

The warm water wind picks up the scent of rush grass and cattail, shoreline beach where small periwinkle shells create a thick line just a few feet on shore as the waves break.

Somewhere distant a cookout is happening; the smell of something on the grill floats by, and our mouths water thinking of a summer barbeque, complete with watermelon and lemonade.