Wild things?

I planted a load of nasturtium seeds in the garden over the summer. Nothing happened for months. I think it was too hot and dry. So, I forgot about them.

But late September, they started to come up – like, all of the them – every.single.plant. And now I’ve got massive nasturtiums in early November showing no signs of stopping. They don’t care about the rain, driving wind or cold. Who knew.

We’re part way through our first Atlantic storm of the season – and the media has gotten so blasé that I don’t even know the name of this one. Looks like it runs through mid this week and then we get dry for a bit.

The lawn is a sponge. The eucalyptus tree in the garden behind keeps dumping bark in my garden which needs collecting and dumping in the green bin.

The sun now comes up after 7 am and goes down a bit before 5 pm. Yuck. Just yuck. And Friday was pre-bonfire night fireworks at local marine camp. So, spent 45 mins with my hands over the dogs ears while he shook. Then took another 1.5 hours for him to calm down in his anti-anxiety bed while I played dog calming music for him. Saturday (actual bonfire night) was worse. Two lots: one early, one much later, after we all thought things were done. First set he went under my desk. So, I did too. Bach to help calm him and ended up curling round him. Later set I was already in bed. So, had to come down and keep him company. I’m not awake today.

So, back to the state of the nasturtium which has caused me to think on wild things of different types. Including perfume.

Where I live looks and feels fairly gentle even though we have very old (like very) twisted oaks that make me think of ancient magic. We get foxes and every once in a while deer on the lanes. I make sure to stop and wait a ways away – until they leap into the hedgerows because … they are wild animals.

We get storms, with gales and horizontal rain, which is weird and wild and not a little bit worrying when the trees start to look like they’ll fall over and you get that unsettling whooshing noise.

And prior to storms you get a twitchy ozone sea fragrance that makes me want to get inside given what it implies. The smell of the ocean gone mad.

I was trying to think of the wildest perfumes I’ve experienced and there aren’t many.

The google searches are sort of usual suspects: obscure Halloween fragrances, lots of leathers and musks (some of which are so gentle on me the lists make me laugh: eg, Malle Musk Ravaguer does nothing ravaging on me and neither do Lutens Muscs Kublai Khan or Narciso Rodriguez for Her — just really ‘nice’ skin scents). Things that say they try to mimic nature ‘at its wildest’. Feh.

Kilian Dark Lord, which I am desperate to sample on skin, is by far the wildest thing I’ve sampled in a long time. It’s still smellable on the blotter I got at Harrods months ago. This isn’t a cliched leather. It just puts it all out there: pepper and rum to start out and then the deepest, darkest base. Clearly I have no idea if I can wear this, and the only sample I can find is on eBay and from the US. I am not paying $20 in shipping for one sample. So, I’m going to have to wait till the short holiday in late January next year to sample it when I’m in a ‘city’.

So, what are your wild things? Any perfumes say wild to you?

Tidbit for the day: a group of rays is called a fever. How about that!

Pics: Hare pexels. All others my own

  • Tom says:

    I hate fireworks for just that reason- the stupid mall put up by the stupid developer trying to buy himself the Mayor’s seat in Los Angeles has them for occasions that simply don’t call for them. Xmas? Thanksgiving? Arbor day? C-mon.

    Those must ain’t nothing on me either, Just comfort.

    Fermez tes Yeux by JAR is the closest I’ve come to a scent that even hints at being a “wild thing” but in kind of Tim Burton (or Tobe Hooper) kind of way. One of these days..

    • cinnamon says:

      JAR … I remember the long moment it had among perfumistas here and am reminded I really should smell them even though I’m not likely to buy.

      I love the look of fireworks. Just wish they weren’t so loud…

  • Musette says:

    A lovely post! Sorry about Joe the Lab’s travails. I’ve been lucky with my dogs and loud noises – mostly they’re just ‘eh’, though Jane was not a fan of the actual sight of fireworks all that much – the noise? ‘eh’ (weird, huh?)

    Thinking about ‘wild’ fragrances – Ambre Grisea comes immediately to mind. It’s not ‘wild’ in and of itself, but to me it evokes the wildness of the Brittany coast in early Autumn. Definitely an Atlantic, rather than Pacific, vibe.

    Now you’ve got me wanting to try Dark Lord – again!


    • Musette says:

      and I love the nasties! They leaf out (and bloom) on their own schedule. Fwiw, the more you feed them, the fewer flowers you get – but whoa! You. Get. Leaves. LOTS of leaves.


      • cinnamon says:

        I love them as plants as the flowers. I’ve got yellow, red, striped and a dull orange this year. Will see how long they last. I should do something culinary with the flowers…

    • cinnamon says:

      Joe’s mate Bruce is fine (he’s a lab too). His person says he just puts the telly on and Bruce is fine. Alas, no, for Joe. He’s a sensitive soul.

  • Dina C. says:

    Last week I tested D. S. & Durga St. Vetyver, which was a really stronger Haitian vetiver with notes of rum, and some marine notes too. It smelled like a pirate ship to me. Pretty wild. Not really me, but fun to sample.

    • cinnamon says:

      There are a couple of places that have these in London. I had sampled their first offering but nothing in a few years. Rum seems to be a note this year …

  • March says:

    Nasturtiums! Are you going to eat them? I thought about the “wild” perfume for awhile; everything I can think of that’s animalic is also kind of fancy/classic so, no. I nominate Ormonde Jayne Woman, that thing is wild.

    • cinnamon says:

      maybe on eating the flowers. would need to bake something … interesting on Ormonde Woman. It does have a seriously weird and slightly ancient aspect — that black hemlock?

      • monkeytoe says:

        The leaves are great in salads, as are the seed pods, but I find the texture of the flowers too “fuzzy” for my palate.

  • Portia says:

    Hey Cinnamon,
    I love nasturtiums. Mum used to grow them down a sloping bed in the backyard and they’d look like a green, orange and yellow waterfall.
    I’m not really an “in the wilds” kinda person. One thing I really love though is when you’re in a tall building during a lightning storm.
    Whenever I think of super weird perfumes my mind goes to Methaldone by Aether, Dama Koupa by Baruti, and Cartier L’Heure Defendue VII with its weird assed choc/patch/iris thing going on. Annick Goutal Mandragore and Tawaf by Abdes Salaam both smell like nature gone feral to me.
    Portia xx

    • cinnamon says:

      I can’t bring myself to pull them out yet. I want to put the fig tree in where the big bank of nasturtiums are currently but now looks like I’ll have to wait till spring. wow, haven’t heard of those first two perfumes. will look up.

  • alityke says:

    Loving a fever of rays. My favourite is an unkindness of ravens. Also the title of an excellent book by Ruth Rendell.
    Wildness? The tops over the Pennines. Whether it’s the Moors by Haworth made famous by the Brontë sisters, Saddleworth Moor made infamous by the Moors Murderers, Hindley & Brady or Woodhead Pass, only occasionally passable from Christmas to March.
    Purple heathered hills, sudden mists, the ear popping heights.
    The most terrifying drive of my life? Driving over Woodhead on Boxing Day when a sudden blizzard came down! Driving Alone in an unforecast white out was quite enough natural wildness for me!

    • matty1649 says:

      i agree with your wildness choices. the tops…the moors and Woodhead.I’ve only driven over Woodhead in the summer months. It certainly must have been scary in a white out .

      • alityke says:

        It’s the most direct route to see our youngest so thankfully know the route well. Those 5 hours or so were some of the most terrifying of my life. Never been so grateful for a 4WD

    • cinnamon says:

      some of the animal grouping names are just so good. it’s def not that wild here, even on dart or exmoor. north Devon is wilder than here. that sounds frightening on driving in a blizzard. decades ago I was driving up over a hill in Lyon, France, and the weather went from clear and sunny to snow. really unsettling.