Spring unfolds in slow motion
Nervous of chill air
The blossoms have finally been coming out in the last few days here in Beijing - but serially, hesitantly. There's still a hint of menace in the north wind - so the jasmine flowers won't bloom.
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Threading through campus here yesterday, sometimes I'd go through a place where the wind was blocked--down by the pond, or along some of the courtyards--and find that the scents of lilac and wisteria had pooled there, sweet/heady/unexpected. Enough to make me forget the imminent onslaught of summer heat and enjoy the spring in its own right.
This feels like rather a silly question, but I won't know if I don't ask: do the blooms on almond trees smell of almond? Or do they have a blossoming smell of their own?
Well, here you'd never smell it above the traffic fumes anyway. Alas.
And it was more of a metaphor, anyway.
According to Ayala Moriel, "the Nose and the founder of Ayala Moriel Parfums," almond blossoms bear the scent of honey and almond.
Presumably, she would know.
(I also found an entire lyrical feature singing their praises in an article in the online Manteca (California) Bulletin... which not once actually says what they smell like!)
Thanks for the links, JES.
I suppose I'm more in tune with the latter writer. I figure, the reader either knows - or would like to imagine - what something smells like; you can't really describe a smell.
It smells better than dust, is all I can say. Although I fear I may be becoming allergic to pollen and such - been wretchedly ill this last week.
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