Privet

The privet beside the bus stop is in flower, and I love the smell - it's one of those "madeleine" moments that take you back.

When I was quite young we lived in a house with long privet hedges down each side of the front garden. I don't suppose they were as long in reality as they are in memory, but cutting them was quite a big job, especially for my father, who hated gardening, only had hand tools to use and cursed those privet hedges (almost certainly more colourfully when I wasn't listening than when I was).

So, the smell of the privet takes me back to long hot sunny summer days, my dad getting cross (but pleased and satisfied when it was all done and raked up) and me with not a care in the world and all my life ahead.

I bought a privet bush for my garden last summer, but it's going to be a long time before I have to trim it, or until I can enjoy the smell.