Week 9
Proustian garlic
Hello!
A quickie from me this week as you will also be receiving my end of the month big poem today and I don’t want to take up *too* much of your time. This is our weekly community post in which I share something that I noticed this week that felt particularly ‘this week of the year’ and you tell me yours, in the comments. And mine’s a big one…
Proustian garlic
I was in the woods and saw one, single piece of solid, almost waxy looking green pushing up between two stones and thought… ‘could that be it…?’ and so I bent down and rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger and brought them to my nose and got such a rush, of dappled spring woodlands and birdsong and warmth and the blossom. Wild what scent will do, it was so strong, in both ways.
Then I walked on and saw this patch and it is unmistakeable: the wild garlic is here!
That’s it from me. Now over to you. What have you seen/eaten/spotted/smelt this week that felt particularly ‘this week of the year’?
Being awoken by early sunshine and birdsong, reluctantly wrestling myself from my warm sleeping bag on a frosty wild camping morning. "Let's get the kettle on".
A female blackbird going to and fro building a nest somewhere, resting on the fence with a beak full of twigs. A sparrow perched on the windowsill, skittering off when I try to have a closer look.