The Sensual Garden

daphne

Daphne

Our singular Daphne is in bloom this time of year producing a sensuous, heady musk.  Daphne is my garden’s Sacred Feminine, the goddess of  sensuality. Her blooms intoxicate, drawing me to my knees to inhale her rich scent.

There are a number of pheromone-rich plants in my garden, and lucky for me, they all flower at different times.  After the Daphne fades, the Jasmine comes to life.  You’ll find me in the side yard making up things to do for the weeks it remains in bloom.  The lavender revives in late spring, attracting bees all summer long.  It lines our front deck, and grows a few feet from our seating area.

According to Skin Biology, perfumes arose from plant oils with smells similar to animal pheromones. Plant oils with the strongest similarity to human sexual pheromones come from jasmine, ylang ylang and patchouli.

The sensual garden is a gentle lover. Leaves stir smoothly on an afternoon breeze as buds unfold languidly when ready. Bees swoop in, spreading garden goodness from plant to plant.

Without a quenching rain, my earthly companions must reach for ground water.  So far they’re holding their own. The garden wouldn’t be the same without them.

17 thoughts on “The Sensual Garden

  1. Ah yes, we secret sensualists ….. I love Daphne, I don’t have a plant here, no room – but always have in previous gardens. I cannot live without my lavender and Jasmine and Ylang-Ylang is always in my stash of essential oils. I love that it brings you to your knees – I can almost see you …. 🙂 I add certain roses to my favourite scents as well – and freesias – and rosemary ………

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    • I knew you too were a sensual soul.

      I used to grow rosemary, but it is the only plant that makes me eyes puffy when I prune.

      Yes to old roses and freesias. I’ve heard that newer roses are grown for size and beauty at the expense of scent. What a shame.

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  2. Your post is so beautifully written Alys, I don’t know which is more appealing, your garden or your words. I don’t think I’ve truly ever seen or smelt Daphne. I love the name though. I really love Jasmine although we don’t grow it in Alberta except as a house plant. There’s a house on Coronado Island, an old victorian with a porch, she has it all over here porch and arbour. The beautiful scent stopped me in my tracks. I paused to talk with her as she was outside tending to things. They’re so friendly there, very small down feeling. There’s sure lots of beautiful plants here, I’ve taken lots of pictures and will find time to share. Hope your day is wonderful xoxoxox K

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  3. I had never heard of Daphne until my neighbor started talking about her plants’ scent, then she dragged me over to enjoy their fragrance. Funny that the next day, I got notice of your newest blog entry and you were mentioning your Daphne. I can smell its scent as I read your post! Beautiful!

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  4. “The sensual garden is a gentle lover. Leaves stir smoothly on an afternoon breeze as buds unfold languidly when ready. Bees swoop in, spreading garden goodness from plant to plant” … your words are beautiful, Alys.

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  5. I love your story about your sensual and aromatic garden plants. I too love Daphne but Jasmine is way too heady in its perfume for me. I find it overwhelming. A plant I love and am looking to plant in my garden soon is the lemon thyne, a delightful herb.

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    • Thanks for stopping by and for your kind words.

      Jasmine is powerful and given the clustering habit of the vine I can see why it is not for everyone.

      Lemon Thyme sounds wonderful, too. I must check that out.

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