Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Cor, Petrichor!

Starting with a few drops here and there which were ignored as I continued weeding onions, the rain then quickened its pace instigating my sprinting pell-mell towards the sheltering sous-sol just in time before the crashing downpour came. 

The green of the garden darkened and blurred

Whoosh! Torrents ran off the patio. Just ten minutes later when all was quiet, petrichor perfumed the air with its unmistakable clean, bracing scent which went to the very core of me, simultaneously soothing and invigorating. What makes this captivating fragrance? Plants partially contribute to its creation. They release germination-stimulating oils in response to generous moisture so as not to cast their seeds on inhospitable ground.

Tomatoes and late-season potatoes loved their shower

Verdant contentment abounded.

Bright green & sharp outlines once again plus overflowing birdbaths

Grazing my fingertips over wet foliage is one of the many pleasures of having a garden.

Ivy-covered wall

Sensory experience need not stop at auditory, olfactory, visual, tactile: yes, that freshly rain-washed, ripe blueberry found its way to my mouth. All hail and praise the gustatory! And also give praise that there was no hail.

Almost daily rain for the last week inspires baking.

Top crust chicken potpie: peas, carrots & chicken in nutmeg-flavoured cream sauce

Recently harvested parsley, a bit of dill, and raspberries came in handy for a soup and dessert . . .

Once minced with the ever-so-nifty herbs scissor, the green leaves went into . . .

Creamy potato, onion, and saucisses de Strasbourg soup (some photos are corrupted but text remains correct in this old post).

The lush berries got topped with vanilla ice cream.

À la prochaine!


The meaning of the British exclamation of cor

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