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Serenissima
Top Review
19
Early summer in the archipelago
As you know, I'm always drawn to the south: Italy is the home of my soul and the climate there also suits me better.
And yet Scandinavia has its very own charm: especially the light above the water, especially over the archipelago and in the fjords. I don't want to rave about the winterly mysterious northern lights here at all.
All this I know only from pictures and of course from television: Crime thrillers that play there are booming, but are usually either too lengthy or too brutal for me.
(Yes, that's right!) Even if I have been mumbled at several times for this opinion, even described as ignorant.)
I prefer the Sunday evening pleasure that Inga Lindström (alias Christiane Sadlo: also known to me as a scriptwriter) offers us in beautiful pictures with nice stories.
Every little animal - well, you know!
"Isle Ryder" could well have been composed as a fragrant embodiment of Edvard Grieg's "Morning Mood". So bright and floating, and yet earthy, both fit together perfectly for me.
Do you hear and feel that too?
The flat land, illuminated by the first rays of the sun; the lark rises straight up, greeting the day, into the clear, cool air. She loves this morning.
The island flora is in its maturity just a step above the awakening of nature: everything is still virgin - becoming!
The poplars have already unrolled the first light green leaves; the light wind plays in them.
Their reddish-brown parchment-like caps form a soft carpet on the still somewhat hardy soil.
They grind easily under the steps of the morning walker; also fir cones are there again and again.
The increasing power of the early summer sun begins to warm and powerful spicy aromas develop from all this awakening nature.
Also the spruce - here a little "into the wet with Badedas!" is reporting; it is something very "fiddly": less would be according to my feeling perhaps nevertheless more!
The mostly half-height vegetation next to our path, which is actually rather a beaten path, is home to original, not overgrown herbs with their own spicy scent.
But first broom and jasmine blossoms gleam; both enjoy the sun's rays and develop their own aromas, which always take some getting used to.
Broom and jasmine! How good it is that so much resinous-spicy green lies around both scents; this combination of both flower scents would be too much even for me!
But lively and lively woodruff mixes entertainingly in this concert of scents; meadowsweet is also there. When was the last time I met Mädesüß? Was it in our Botanical Garden?
Where meadowsweet is, mead also belongs to it - these two are the "ideal couple"!
And mead is also honey, of course; some beehives may hide here, from which the creamy golden honey comes? The vegetation for bees would be available; the encounter with a beekeeper would not surprise me.
After my fine nose really a nuance of honey pervades this natural mixture.
Actually Met belongs to "the old Germanic tribes" (if you can believe the crossword puzzles).
But who says that they didn't hang around here and bring in their honey schnapps.
Already in former times the migration of peoples was cross-border; we did not invent it.
(I can only remember that "Bärenfang", that was the name of the stuff brewed from honey and spices, enjoyed in the early eighties in the morning in the first cups of coffee, warming up wonderfully.
But sometimes the start of the day became a little more blurry. Especially natural, if the get-together in the morning lasted longer, the telephone disturbed more rarely and the boss did not appear, slight headaches were pre-programmed.)
All in all "Isle Ryder" is a bright, very nature-loving fragrant creation, which I like very much
It brings a lot of light and pleasant spice to the wearer's day, without stressing or disturbing: a beautiful companion for a few hours whose fragrance does not get boring.
It is as if, after a first walk through this Nordic landscape, sitting on a blanket, enjoying a small snack, a good book next to me, the warming sun in fragrant surroundings.
Edvard Grieg with his sound paintings remains in the back of the mind; music would be out of place in such a place.
Here it is more fitting to listen devoutly to nature, its rustling and whispering and whispering.
I am glad that the bottling, which Heikeso has again so generously left to me, is still rich.
So on these grey, wet winter days I can travel with Edvard Grieg and "Isle Ryder" to a country I wouldn't otherwise visit.
Scandinavia - here I come!
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