Fragrant Quote for September 26th, 2012- Spirit of September from The Spectator, Volume 65

 Blackberry Picking

The silence of September, indeed, is a silence of rich possession, of broad surveyance of the ample growth of orchards and wheatfields; of apple-trees once pink and white with April blossom, and now heavy and drooping with clustered green fruit; of wide stubbles razed white, and plump stacks in the corner of the field; of delicate peaches and nectarines, and pumpkins big enough for Cinderella's coaches. There are scents which are proper to all that luxuriance of growth and harvesting; indeed, nothing marks any of the months more strongly than the memory of the scents which belong to her. For April there is the freshness of primroses, June recalls herself most often by her lilies and sweetbriar, July by the mature sweetness of rose3. But to September belongs the scent of sun-warmed blackberries, crimson and purple clusters glowing against dark-green and russet; of broad fields of yellow mustard, humming with the happy work of a million bees; above all, in the garden walks, the clinging, hot, musty smell of phloxes,—the most autumnal of all scents of flowers; and blowing over the lawn or down the field from the wood, that faint scent of death which comes first on September winds,—a sharp and bitter scent of leaves and grasses, and cold as with the coldness of water from a very deep well.