Saturday, November 28, 2009

Soil

I've had a busy week so I haven't read much from my book and today I caught up, reclined on my favourite chair with several cups of hot tea.

"The wet winter promised a glorious spring, and here and there, pushing through the sodden leaf mold, were furtive shoots of green that gladdened his heart. He loved the smell of the woods, and the damp alluvial soil that covered these mountains like a blanket...
'Well if it ain't the clergy!. Come in, come in, make yourself at home!'
The rector and his dog discovered a roaring fire in the old stove, a soup pot simmering on top, and a book open on the little table where an oil lamp burned against the fading afternoon light. In the corner stood the neatly made cot, with two worn quilts folded at the foot."
from At home in Mitford



This passage reminded me of my stays (most weekends as a student) at my friend's farm in Stellenbosch. We would often go walking in the wooded areas surrounding their property and I remember telling her that I loved the smell of the ground and she would look at me like I was a nutter! I would close my eyes and breath in deeply 'Can't you smell the soil?' - it had such a rich earthy fragrance. She was raised there so I guess it smelled normal to her.

Enjoy your piece of earth!

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