Perfume

peony

I’ve always been a little ambivalent about Skype and the like.  It seems like hard work.  You have to change out of your polar bear onesie and comb your hair.  Any face pulling or expressive gestures can be seen by the caller, in my case this is rarely advisable.  Yawning cannot be masked.  The crossword cannot be studied.  Full attention must be given in order to avoid offence.

Likewise the concept of smelli-vision.  There are surely limited advantages.  If it was used to demonstrate the proximity of the local sewage works, then surely only the perverse would appreciate this gift.  If the subject was freshly baked bread or a roast dinner, then it would equate to cruel taunting.  “Take a whiff of this my friend, but you can’t partake in its consumption”.  Today however, I was softening to the idea.  I would have loved to share with you the fragrant fug of Rhododendron ‘Princess Alice’, the sweet green smell of warm rain on verdant grass and the delicate perfume of the almost open peony.  Just so you could understand my day.  That the continuing rain was pushed to the periphery, that the delicious aromas were held suspended in the air, parfum de printemps.