Saturday, May 30, 2009

Aromatherapy


A few evenings ago I arrived early at a place in the country where a few of us were gathering to share poetry.


I had time to do a little walking, so I headed down a path that eventually wound its way around a small lake. It was so quiet there ... that is, there was an absence of traffic noises, nobody was setting off fireworks ...


It was quiet in respect to the usual sounds I've become accustomed to, but there was a lot of "conversation" going on as the birds were calling it a day, settling into roosting or nesting places for the night.


I had forgotten how they sounded at that time of day, as though discussing their activities, discoveries they had made, narrow escapes they'd had ... and, I imagined, reassuring each other of the relative safety night would bring.


I was musing about that, enjoying the wildflowers along the path, the aromas gently enfolding me, the relative absence of mosquitos ... when I noticed movement in the grass ahead.


Ah, a ground squirrel, I thought ... but no, as I ventured nearer, it turned out to be a very young bird who apparently had left the nest too soon. It stared at me with interest and no evidence of fear as I gave it a wide berth.


Ah, but the parents. They were a different matter. They swooped and scolded me for intruding ... and one of them followed me some distance along the path as I kept moving toward completion of my circuit.


I kept hoping this story had a happy ending ... that the youngster was rescued, was at least watched over ... and will be ... until it's ready to fly off to seek other adventures.


It occurred to me that we ... and nature ... do seem at times to intrude on each other ... but we seem to manage a sort of accommodation ... and life goes on.


All of which has so little to do with today's poem ... except, perhaps, the aroma of those path-side blossoms which reminded me of this little piece ... and I dusted it off again for today.


AROMATHERAPY


The freshness
after summer rain,
honeysuckle wafting,
pie still bubbling,
smoke of a wood fire,
that new-car smell.
In a former time,
our aromatherapy.
© 1996
(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: honeysuckle
Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Thank you so much, hannahthemaid. I'm glad you liked it.
And thank you, This and That, for sharing those memories. I like the way the honeysuckle fragrance "melted into the air" ... and the blending of the scents of woodsmoke, pine and salt spray is a recipe for good memories, too.

2 comments:

hannahthemaid said...

this is loved.

This and That said...

At one home, I planted honeysuckle to wind itself through my porch rails and posts. At night, when the mist fell on the Allegheny Mountains, the fragrance melted into the air.

At another home, the scents of woodsmoke, pine and salt spray linger in my memory. I even brought a small bit of balsalm pine tips with me to "save" it!

I like your brand of aromatherapy :)