It smells like late summer
Living in the countryside, the dusty smell of harvest is very evocative. Walking back from Uplyme this morning, I passed a stubble field where the oilseed rape had been combined a couple of days ago, and the aroma was very redolent of August, even though we’re still in July. Some crops have ripened a lot earlier with the hot dry weather recently, and the night before last, the evening air was full of the drone of the harvester, long into the dark of evening, when the headlights illuminated drifting clouds of dusty chaff.
Back to today, and walking along our lane I enjoyed the scent of honeysuckle (subtle now, but much more pervasive at dusk), and the more gentle lemony perfume of Old Man’s Beard (wild clematis) draped in heavy swags along the hedgerow. I was also delighted to hear the sizzling “tse tse tse tse tse tseeee” call of a yellowhammer, a bunting whose cheerful yellow cap is distinctive but not often seen in the garden – they are on the Red List of conservation concern. The spot where I heard it is the same one where I’ve seen them for some years, so I hope they are flourishing. As I brushed against the vegetation (avoiding the brambles and nettles!), butterflies scampered out across the lane. Mostly gatekeepers or meadow browns I think.
Turning up the drive to the house, I was enchanted by the profusion of the pink and white almond-scented flutes of lesser bindweed growing in the verge and clambering up the grasses and fence. Lazy bumblebees clambered on the flowers and buzzed clumsily about.
