While walking in Lough Boora recently with a friend in the middle of summer he pointed out to me some Meadow Sweet which was all but very familiar already but up till then nameless, . He told me that it was good for your skin and to take some and rub it in my hands and then smear my hands on my face. I did that and like a torrent of emotions it brought me right back to my childhood – that moment when the smell, the sweet, almost pungent aroma, accosted my nostrils, the feel on my skin of those tufts of white flowers. Memories of lazy days in the sun in the meadows around our house came springing back to mind, the bees buzzing away, the damp grass underneath us as we lay there with not a care in the world, the promise of an eternity of these long languid days of summer ahead; no school, no rules, no worries.
And as I soaked in that smell of a thousand memories I vowed that it would always have a place in my heart from that moment on; it along with clover, cowslips, daisies, buttercups and all those other nameless wild flowers.