Early in the morning, raindrops on fresh cut grass tickled her feet. She stopped a moment to listen to her friends chirp ‘bon matin’. Spade in one hand, box of marigolds in the other, she reached her vegetable garden. Kneeling at the edge, she set the spade aside. No need for metal when the earth was still loose and wet. Digging bare hands in the rich soil, the feel on her fingers made her feel alive; the earthy scents of soil, clay and last night’s drizzle awakened her sense of being.  She planted the marigolds outlining the entire garden and got a whiff of the pungent, musky scent, pleasing to humans yet, repugnant to insects.

Wikipedia

morning drizzle
oozes pleasant scents
petrichor

alluring scents,
insects run away
marigolds

© Tournesol ’15

CP Time Machine, ‘perfume’