Heya Posse. It’s spring here in Sydney. The wisteria is in bloom. The jasmine are almost finished pumping out their magnificent scent. Our neighbours planted a jasmine about 3 years ago. This year, for the first time, the mass of flowers was large enough that scent wafted heavily through the bedroom window. When I open the apartment door to come in the scent hangs there, heavy and pendulous. We have had so much rain that the cemetery park across the road has been a bog, the smell of overset earth is strong. The hawthorn is flowering like crazy. Most of Sydney’s be population has been destroyed because of bee mite. The flowers bloom unloved and unattended. Where once spring was abuzz is now an eerie silence.
I’m not sure if we’ve discussed this before but there’s an ancient tradition of Drag Queens and Prostitutes. We don’t have cut flowers because it superstitiously augers beauty cut off in its prime. Well, while I’m still full of superstition I feel like perhaps my prime is being stretched the very limit of primeness. Fallen flowers are OK, cut are not. Yeah, I know. Superstition.
It’s so rare for us to have flowers in the house. Yet while walking home one night from drunken revels, Jin was assaulted by the most heavenly scent. Because of the rain and a house being for sale for ages the garden has become a tangled mess of vines and thorny roses. Maleficent could hardly have done better. Sleeping Beauty doesn’t even come close. The wisteria has gone rabid and is dreaming dreams of Triffids. It has consumed the garage, grown over the three meter rose wall and into the conifer. There are thousands of large lilac inflorescence dropping flowers and scent in equal measure of an evening. It is mesmerising. Like a gateway into another realm.
So the hero of our story plucked two. He then lay them on my computer keyboard and went to bed. When I arrived home from work the smell had filled my office/perfume room and was wending its way out into the corridor. BOOM! Wow!
On picking the wisteria up I was spellbound. A vegetal musk surrounded by the memories of jonquil, lilac, hyacinth and lily. They are all there hiding in plain sight. PLUS the smell of bee hives. Unbelievably sumptuous, sharp, cool, feral and regal. Standing under or downwind from the bush is contemplative. Up close the fragrance is dark and brooding and alluring. How did I never notice such abundance of perfume?
If you like Spring chatter Musette writes beautifully. Fragrantica has a slew of perfumes with wisteria as a note. Some of them I even have bottles of (Seven Veils, Stash Unspoken, Ostara). Yet nothing smells like the flower from the vine.
Do you have any wisteria forward frag suggestions? I’d love to try some.