I WAS leaning on the iron gate of the cow field, chewing a length of ryegrass, gazing at the occupants. The cows, bits of grass hanging from their slobbery mouths, regarded me. Mirror match.
Few animals exude contentment to the degree of an outdoor cow in summer and watching the Limousins engendered the usual contagious joy. But my hanging like a yokel on the gate was about more than self-help, a down-on-the-farm pick-me-up: survey a collection of cows for five minutes and you can tell which is sick and which is on the up (or down) in the herd order. Any cow off to the side or dragging behind is a cow in trouble.
All was well in the cow field. Particularly well… there was a euphoria above standard cow-watching. There was something in the air. It had rained 15 minutes earlier and the wet, bare ground around the gateway, where the cattle stand and stare, was releasing the odour of the earth. This particular scent, petrichor (‘Sweet with the evening rain’, August 3)—from the Greek petra, ‘rock’, and ichor, ‘blood of the gods’—is, to cut a chemical lesson short, a diffusion of aerosols containing the soil compounds, the most potent of which is geosmin. When it goes right up our noses, the 600,000 cells of the olfactory centre really rather like it. Primeval and musky, geosmin is a common ingredient in perfumes. Bottled delight.
Denne historien er fra August 24, 2022-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra August 24, 2022-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
