I wrote last year of "The Nature of Anticipation".Well, it is that time again, folks. My Peonies are budding. This always produces as much excitement, and anticipation as, for example, planning to go on a holiday does (or thinking about s_xual encounters). The anticipation is nearly as good as the real thing (sometimes better).
I refer you to last year's discussion (above) which was vaguely philosphical, and partly gynacological (while stopping short of obscenity). (Peony "Noses"? - I don't think so.) It produced some interesting exchanges of opinion, anyway.
The other anticipatory sensation of this season is seeing and smelling, the Wattle as it comes into flower. We Aussies always delude ourselves that Wattle flowers mean Spring. Of course, they mean no such thing, for this one is flowering in the middle of the coldest week in winter. But when the wind drops for a while, and the sun shines, and the air warms up just a little, the scent of this wattle drifts across the bush was the case out on the Boxvale Track last week, one cannot but help feel that Spring is coming. I for one, am very susceptible to floral odours, and the heady scent of wattle blossom on the breeze can transport me into delights of fantasy.If only I could attach a "scent file" to this blog posting (as I can attach an image). In years to come, no doubt this will be possible. But for Aussies, I do not need to, I am sure they all can re-create their own scent-memory for themselves.
I know that I, for one, carry in my heart (or memory) a special package of wattle blossom perfume, which I can release just by looking at this image, and remembering the scent of Wattle blossom filling the air around me, walking through the Boxvale Track in late winter.