Not just sheep encounters yesterday, but goats too. The goats were at Indian Ladder Farms where we went to pick berries. Raspberries are just coming into their own now, but the strawberry season is pretty much over. Much of the last fruit was spoiled by all the recent rain, too - more's the pity. But the smell took me back to warm summer evenings in Oxford, rolling home along Binsey Lane from the Perch after a half of Guinness (I always have been a very cheap date); the light of the moon and the heady scent of rotting strawberries wafting over from the pick-your-own fields. Happy days.
What scents take you back to times past?
Honeysuckle every time.
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