Growing up, we had a valley in the garden filled with ostrich ferns. In the cool of the day, they would emit the most wonderful fragrance. It could only be described as "green." It is the most wonderful smell in the whole world, apart from carmelized onions deglazed with sherry. I miss that ferny valley, a very fairyish place with an ironwood tree, a pond, columbines, bleeding hearts and of course, the ferns. I have a few ferns here, and I love them. They never quite perfume the air like the ones at home did–there just aren’t enough. But sometimes I catch a whiff and break my heart with memory.
Ferns.
Makes my mouth wter-they are also the way green tastes!