A Profusion of Confederate Jasmine

Our property here at Echowood is shaped like a wedge, with the backyard being the top (wide) part of the wedge. It’s long and narrow, and we have two styles of fence running along the back (due to having more than one backyard neighbor).

The chain link fence is completely covered in confederate jasmine. It’s all in bloom right now, and the little white flowers have such a strong fragrance that we can smell them the instant we walk out the door.

Everyone around here seems to have these vines growing in their yards—I see them covering mailboxes when I’m on my walks. It’s lovely to stroll along, smelling the jasmine (and the honeysuckle!, which I love, but we don’t have any of that in our yard).

I took some pictures the other day so you could get an idea what confederate jasmine looks like.

Just a section of the (smothered-in-it) fence:

A bit closer up:

And closer still:

A (sort of fuzzy) close-up of the fragrant blooms—sorry you can’t put your nose to the computer and actually know for yourself how good they smell!:

Even as I type this, I can breathe the heavenly aroma as it wafts in through the sliding screen door.

It reminds me a bit of high school, when I went to my friend Bonnie’s house to work on a school project. She lived in an old farmhouse, and we were in her living room. All the windows were open, and the scent from the blooming lilacs out in the yard was coming in on the breeze. It was so wonderful, I wanted to bring in a pillow and just sleep there.

The funny thing about fragrance is, it’s so powerful and can evoke so many emotions and memories. Yet, it’s ephemeral, almost intangible—you can’t hold on to a scent. You can make perfume and spray it all over yourself, but even then, you can only experience it through your nose. You can’t hold it. I could go out and cut a bunch of the jasmine and bring it into the house to enjoy, but even with the flowers right there in my hands, the smell of them eludes my grasp.

I guess that’s what makes them so special.