Scent at dusk

摘要

A garden isn't complete without the fragrance of flowers, says James Alexander Sinclair, and those that release their perfume at night are particularly alluring. Many years ago, I remember sitting in a friend's garden at about eiglit o'clock on a warmJuly evening: the sun was thinking about setting, birds were stuffing the last of that day's worms into the mouths of their demanding offspring and the occasional bee was working overtime in the foxgloves. Every so often an early rising bat would whizzacross the sky in search of whatever it is that bats are after (midges hopefully) ice clinked in glasses and the garden was washed intermittently by the most heavenly scent. It was not a strong, knock-em-over-at-a-hundred-paces perfume, but something subtle and elegant, like Sophia Loren walking past a restaurant table. My friend was not a gardener and had no idea which flower had produced the scent. I should have got up and ferreted around his borders until I found out but, and I am only slightly ashamed to admit it, I was too comfortable and couldn't be bothered to move. Sometimes it is better to just appreciate the moment rather than go searching after knowledge. This, however, is not one of those moments - this is a moment for stringent horticultural action, rather than lolling in hammocks. But, before we do that let's consider scent In the garden.