It’s funny how a certain scent can take you back to a different place and time…
A little while ago, on a sunny day in July, some friends and I took a trip to a place called Lordington lavender fields.
I’d wanted to go last year, but the window of opportunity is small as they are only open a short while (about a week or so) prior to the harvest.
We stuck out some traffic on windy country roads, parked up, and walked up a dusty lane alongside hoards of families in sundresses, shorts and sunglasses.
We passed a quaint cottage and a tractor thundered by, as we entered the farm yard where there was a makeshift stall selling tickets for a few pounds plus a charity donation.
Further down the lane, around the corner, the bushes part to reveal row upon row of purple.
We wandered up and down in the afternoon sun, taking photographs and watching bees and butterflies dance around the flowers.
I rubbed some between my hands and inhaled. I love the scent of lavender, and it brings back the fondest childhood memories for me, playing and giggling under cloudless blue skies in my grandmother’s garden.
Families sat on the grass or hay bales with picnics and a little stall sold cake and lemonade as well as various lavender oils, candles and creams.
I picked up a lavender cooking essence which I’ve used so far to make some simple lavender & lemon cupcakes.
The Gypsy Heart Travels 