A Fragrance Pilgrimage

My sacred connections

Welcome to my wee corner of Substack. I am a seasonal artist living on the Isle of Arran, off the west coast of Scotland. I am the custodian of approximately two acres of land that includes a woodland, a meadow and my wee garden. I offer a seasonal book arts project for paid subscribers if you are interested and you can read more about that HERE. Grab a cuppa and lets delve into our relationship with the shifting seasons…..

A pilgrimage is, essentially, a journey to sacred shrines. In my world nature provides the sacred shrines and I have special places I visit every year as the seasons shifts. July is my month of ‘Fragrance Pilgrimages’ as I seek out the scents that fill my heart with joy. Our sense of smell is a powerful trigger for lots of emotive responses and some years ago I went on my very first ‘Fragrance Pilgrimage’ and I have embodied the practice ever since. Different seasons offer us difference fragrances but July is the height of our summer on the island when fragrances are at their deepest.

I begin and end my fragrance pilgrimage with my lavender plants. The scent of lavender has the ability to relax us and it is a super way to begin something and also to close something down. Old English lavender is my favourite scent and at this time of year I gather in some of the harvest to dry. I bring scent into a lot of what I offer in my store and I have a drying rack in my studio.

Next to the lavender is the raspberry crop and what a year this humble plant is having. We freeze our raspberries and most days you will find me deep within the canes picking the ripe fruits. The smell seems to have always been with me ever since I was a small child. Our eldery neighours used to invite us round for tea and in July we had raspberries from their garden for pudding. In our patch we leave plenty for the birds who watch on from the hedgerow awaiting their turn. Folk often ask me why we don’t net our soft fruit. Birds are a problem for some but not for us, we like to share and nets can cause untold damage to birds.

As I turn out of the raspberry crop I am met with the glorious scent of wild roses. They scramble up the fence and it is a moment to just stop…..If there isn’t time in our days to stop and smell the roses we, perhaps, need to re-evaluate our relationship with time. Dropping the raspberries off through the kitchen window I have to lean over one of many herb boxes. I collect the empty basket I have left there. Bay, thyme, sage and chives all compete to alert me that they too would benefit from a gentle harvest. I gather some sage leaves and a couple of fallen rose petals and pop them on the windowsill telling myself not to forget to make a smudge stick when I am back indoors. For now, I have more sacred scents to visit.

A gentle walk down the garden path and I find an old tree trunk to sit on where I am met with a strong lemon scent coming from the lemon balm.

This grows everywhere so once it has flowered I cut it back but, for now, I gather some leaves to dry for tea in the colder months. I have noticed that through the years I have lingered here for longer each time. There is something refreshing about lemon that makes me feel cleansed and energised so this feeling is not to be rushed.

Further into the garden I reach my container garden and the pride of that space is my mint collection. No two mints smell the same and my favourite are garden mint and chocolate mint and they love to be harvested. I dry these for teas but I also include it in my herbal dream pillows as a touch of mint is useful for winter recipes to aid sleep.

I leave the polytunnel until last as the scents are so powerful in there. I grow sweet peas, geraniums, strawberries and tomatoes and they all offer up their unique scent. The strawberries are over but I gather some large leaves to print with before sitting on my wee camping stool next to my sweat peas just because I can and I should. I could linger here forever but I gather the latest blooms to pop in vases all over the house. As I leave the tunnel I brush past the geraniums that are beginning to lose their summer petals. What a joyful and uplifting scent they offer and a reminder that they will soon need clipping back ready to move back into the house for the colder months. My geraniums flower all year round as outside plants in the spring and summer and as house plants in the autumn and winter. I am never very far away from a geranium flower.

Finally, I revisit the lavender just for a few moments content that yet another July ‘Fragrance Pilgrimage’ is over and what a joy it has been. I have lost count of how many times I have taken this route around my garden. I have similar routes in the meadow and into the woodland earlier and later into the year. I never take these journeys for granted and they always restore a deep connection with the plants that inhabit the same world as I do.

I wonder if you could take a ‘Fragrance Pilgrimage’ and what it might uncover?