The news is depressing. The world is up side down with senseless invading and bombing, earthquakes, flooding and the ongoing conflict between two groups of people fighting for a small piece of land for over a thousand years.
Why can’t one of them just migrate to the endless land Australia and make peace of it?
I decided to shun them all and take a walk.
The near the noon sun was the honey dew blazed golden and warm, the same color as the hills high and low. It’s the starting days of the fall.
And there was this strong earthy smell with a hint of unique floral aroma in the air. I bet my hubby would not be able to tell if he were with me but I did.
As I looked around, I saw a variety of bushes, trees, and grasses. I couldn’t resist plucking a tiny daisy-like flower to my nose, and there it was — the source of that elusive scent I’d been encountering every morning when I opened the kitchen doors or bedroom windows. It was the scent of hayfield tarweed, a delicate blend of earthy, woody, herbal notes with a faint thread of golden chamomile. The scattered flowers across the hills contributed to a subtle yet persistent aroma.
I cherished my above-average sense of smell, allowing me to appreciate one of the subtle beauties of Northern California in the fall — the fragrance of hayfield tarweed.
This year, they were in full bloom, adorning the hills in our hilly neighborhood.
Finally one kind of wildflowers is blossoming and shyly radiating, in the fall instead of the spring, for the first time since we moved here more than a decade ago.
My backyard wildflower dream came true, one kind of plant at a time.
