"Picked first 'Matucana' sweet peas in the eternal exhaustless freshness of the morning. They were self-seeded seedlings from last year, sprouted in the autumn were they fell by their tepees and got a head start. I popped them in my ponytail where the scent nudged me all afternoon. I gathered a full bunch on June 4th, the sweetness all the more intense after a ten-month wait. Sun-warmed water, soap suds, marzipan, marshmallows ; treats of all kinds come to mind on sniffing the first sweet peas. The first lathyrus odaratus flower of the year is like the return of a great friend, usually alone and fragile, who has made it to your doorstep. A couple of days later you might be able to pick six and proudly put them on the kitchen table. A week later the house is filled with them in every sort of vessel, like paint pots, like a flower show. The wait, the patience, the frost fingers, grappling with hazels, mania about mice, all becomes worthwhile"
An extract from 'Scent Magic: Notes From A Gardener' by Isobel Bannerman.
My sweet peas including 'Matucana' are not in flower yet but hopefully that great friend will return later this month. I have used a photo of a bunch I picked in July 2016.
I thought it was you writing about your sweetpeas...but yes I can imagine you doing that, but I thought your hair must have been growing and growing.
ReplyDeleteVery apt - my outdoor sweet peas performed in exactly the same way (although I sowed them in January and not the autumn)!
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