Fragrance Quote for January 24th, 2012 from A COUNTRY WALK IN APRIL By Fred Myron Colby

Most of the country smells of springtime, however, are delicate and mild and coy as Undines. They are not rich and sensuous as the perfumes of later months. In the hot summer days, the air is impregnated with the fragrance of millions of flowers. The bloom is on the rye, the oats heavy with ripeness like absorbed sunshine; or the buckwheat or clover is driving the bees wild with its honeyed sweetness, or the mower is riding grandly over the meadows, with every spear of grass he cuts tapping a new capsule of odors. And after a rain, especially a brief shower which comes at noon of a summer day, the most fragrant countryside is as when odoriferous leaves are subjected to a fresh infusion of distilling waters, or as when nature, like an ancient Greek, has anointed herself with fragrant perfumes after a bath.

Even the first wild flowers of spring have a daintier fragrance than any of their later sisterhood. Trailing arbutus, pale or purple-eyed hepaticas, saxifrage or anemones, violets or houstonia—is not their perfume as unobtrusive as themselves—the "still small voice" of a new life of nature? The advent of these first wild flowers of spring is an epoch. It is the perfume tolled from the "floral bells'' of the early flowers which really "rings the old year out and the new year in." And that day was a real jubilee to me, for in two places I found handfuls of the arbutus.

By Fred Myron Colby