EMPRESS OF THE AIR

Each Autumn, after I've been unexpectedly uplifted by the exquisitely peach-and-creamy fragrance of kinmokusei, the shy harbinger of Autumn and Winter beauty, I swear that next time I won't be, I'll look forward to it, anticipate it and be ready for it, but somehow it always catches me thinking some other way and forces me to rediscover it, which is a pretty crafty thing in a plant if you think about it. And here in Spring, at the opposite pole of the year, is the counterpart presaging the richness of Spring and Summer, that caught me once again this morning walking out the door on my way to work, dispersed in some now forgotten thought, when all at once a key part of my mind was in heaven, eagerly inviting the rest of me there. Heaven as manifested also in a fragrance (much less descript than that of the kinmokusei, though it and my nose are clearly ancient familiars)[later note: today (April 6) the scent was even richer, and is a sort of faintly grapy lily-of-the-valley fragrance. RB], in this case wafting from the very unassuming shrub over there under the cedars, the one with the soft green leaves and the unprepossessing shape, known in Japan as jinchoge (Daphne odora). All the year round standing there unattractive, drawing no attention; but then one early Spring day she's robed in tiny purple velvet flowers, and what an empress of the air Daphne is now!!