It’s no secret I like fragrance in the garden. Actually, I like fragrance in my house too. And on my body. But fragrance in the garden is a decadent element I design space for.
So it’s no wonder that The Wall of Scent is in great bloom at this very moment.
It wasn’t named The Wall of Scent until right now. But the sensory experience is obvious. Old fashioned roses, one smelling like sweet rose water, another like spicy pure rose, and one Chinese jasmine absolutely blooming its head off.
I stood here the other day at The Wall. I forced myself to just stop. Stop the tasks, the to-dos, the client calls: stop.
Close my eyes.
This jasmine has come into its own this year. You know the saying first year they sleep, second year they creep and third year they leap? This must be the jasmine’s third year. It has leapt and scrambled all along the fence, covering the hardware for the rainchain, and now it’s in full bloom.
How do you describe, in words, this scent? It’s the purest of jasmine, the undertone of 75% of all women’s perfumes, I would assume. But it’s not at the high note of the scale. It maintains a musky deep accent, a serious fragrance that nicely balances the sweet rose bloom notes bouncing through the same air. Together they blend into a wonderful late spring experience. They draw me in and welcome me to sit and take them in some more.
And I’m not the only one who visits The Wall of Scent. Look who’s visiting today…
A closer look...
There’s The Wailing Wall, and then there’s my wall. And it smells delicious.
Last week, the Portland area experienced a strange storm. Wind whipped through the garden, the sky turned a dark green grey, and I sat in the backyard taking it all in. Until the thunder began.