Spring smells

Warning; This will be quite a boring post where I wax lyrical about the glories of country living, much like Anne (of Green Gables) when she goes on, and on, and on, until you want to scream "Shut-up, it is only a flower/sunset/lake/please insert noun!" I don't know why I have this overwhelming need to document it, but alas, I must, so please skip if bored by such themes.

I think that Spring must be my favourite season. I feel so blessed living being a country mouse and experiencing everything that this season offers. My poor spouse suffers greatly at this time of year, but hey, in order to  have the beauty of  wisteria outside your front door with it's gorgeous scent wafting in on the breeze,  you've got to bite the bullet and take copious amounts of Clarityne.

Next to the chook pen, we have a rare old rainforest tree, called a Hard Quandong. It has beautiful clumps of bell shaped flowers, like Lily-of-the-Valley. Some years it does't flower much, but on the years that it does put on a show (like this year) the smell of sweet, sweet honey is overpowering. As it is about 20 metres high and wide, it may give you an indication of the sensory overload one can experience. Plus, the bees go crazy for it. Approaching it, a buzzing starts to resonate in your ears. Stand underneath it and close your eyes and you can imagine being in ane enormous bee-hive.

Walking from the chook pen to the orchard you have to go past the mulbery tree. Again, this year, the weather gods have done some magic (unlike last year when they were cranky) and the mulberries are on, big time. Big, luscious, juicy fruits that ripen within hours. My fingers are stained purple. There is nothing like picking fruit off a tree.

Then on to the orchard where all of the citrus fruits are in flower, even though they all still have fruit on them. The air is overpowering with orange blossomy smells. You reach some kind of Nirvana, just standing there and taking deep breaths of the sent.

When I walk through the orchard in bloom, I always think of 1940's weddings and a great book called "Come in Spinner," written by two Australian women during WW2.  I wish I was a size 10 wearing a gorgeous little floral silk georgette frock, with maybe a straw hat to keep the sun from my perfect skin.