How scent from my garden became an act of self-care

Cut roses from garden by my workspace
Scented roses from the garden

I had a busy work week and last Friday, I found myself heading off to the A&E to have a sebaceous cyst looked at, after the nurse at my GP said they couldn’t help me further after a course of antibiotics the practice had prescribed.

When I finally returned home after the long wait to see one of the consultants, knowing that I had to go back on Saturday, because they couldn’t treat me that day, I turned to my happy place; the roses that I had planted about 3 years ago, now coming beautifully into bloom.

Cutting a few stems and placing them in a vase on my desk made me feel happy, a welcome distraction from hospitals and what that entailed. I cut some rosemary and placed this in a vase so it would sit on my windowsill behind my desk.

The science of the “Happy Place”

We often think of comforting fragrances as a luxury, but modern science proves they are a physiological intervention. There is a profound medical field called Psychoneuroimmunology—the study of how our emotional brain interacts directly with our nervous and immune systems.

When we experience sudden trauma or work related stress, our bodies flood with cortisol (the stress hormone). In clinical studies, high cortisol levels have been shown to delay physical wound healing by up to 50%*. It slows down cellular repair and constricts microcirculation.

Scent can be a shortcut straight to the limbic system—the brain’s ancient emotional control centre. 

So when you inhale an authentic, uplifting botanical fragrance, your brain instantly signals your nervous system to switch off the “fight-or-flight” response. By dropping your cortisol levels, a happy scent physically allows your body to redirect its resources toward cellular recovery and healing. 

My garden brings comfort to my mind, and it is also a way to help repair my body.

I have to admit that I had not tended to the roses and only purchased soil improver to ensure the roses would bloom over the coming months and some rose fertiliser, sprinkled around them and raked in.

From Garden to Bottle: Bringing the Antidote Indoors

They are now entering their most beautiful phase of growth, so each morning before doing anything else, I will take a pair of secateurs and give them a light pruning, taking away spent rose heads so that the plants continue to bloom well into autumn.

While I am fortunate to watch Gertrude Jekyll and The Poet’s Wife bloom right outside my window, you don’t need a mature cut-flower garden to harness this therapeutic power. The beauty industry has long looked to these exact heritage botanical profiles to create scents that do more than just make us smell good—they alter how we feel.

The roses were an investment – I guess looking back little did I know they are also an act of self-care.

If you are looking to bring this grounding, anti-stress ritual into your daily routine, you can explore it through fragrances such as:

  • Affordable budget friendly High-Street Everyday Mist: For a light, accessible burst of morning optimism, The Body Shop’s British Rose offers a clean, dewy, straight-from-the-flowerbed freshness that acts as a perfect midday pick-me-up at your desk.
  • Historic rose scent : To truly replicate the timeless, old-world rose experience, look to L’Occitane’s classic Rose Eau de Toilette. It beautifully captures the elegant, velvet depth of traditional rose species—the very same historic heritage varieties you can source and plant in your own space via David Austin Roses.
  • Luxurious and Aromatic: If you want the a sophisticated pairing of floral and herbal notes with white musk, Jo Malone London’s Rose & White Musk Absolu is the ultimate luxury. By weaving authentic rosewater with sharp, earthy rosemary, it has a crisp scent that helps with mental clarity.

Discovering the perfumed scent of tuberose in the garden

Polianthes tuberosa, growing in the garden, flowering late in September this year.

It’s been a while since I last posted anything on this blog. Since my last entry, we’ve been in lock down and during this time, I’ve spent more time in the garden, planting for the joy of watching nature come alive.

In May, I planted 5 tubers of the precious Polyanthes tuberosa ‘The Pearl’ in pots. Instructions were simple, put in pots around 3 inches deep in a sunny spot. I put them into 3 pots and waited. I chose them because the scent was described as highly scented and found in many perfumes

Within a month the tubers started to push through the earth and their leaves began to emerge and grow tall. Out of the 3 pots, only one of the tubers I planted showed small buds and bloomed.

In the early morning, brushing past the bloom, it releases a heady scent which I can only describe as sweet, combining the scents of flowers such as irises, roses, lilacs into one floral scent, that feels like sunshine, almost alcoholic as it hits the back of the throat and nose.

Monotheme Tuberose

You’ll find it in Monotheme’s Tuberose Eau de Toilette, a budget perfume that is available in Marks & Spencers in the UK or on Amazon.

For more indulgent luxury, I love the new perfume from Chanel, Gabrielle Chanel.

It has a softer citrus start and includes my favourite scent of Grapefruit, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Ylang-Ylang, and the rich floral scent of tuberose.

Since the flower has now faded and it’s time to dig up the tuber and store it in a warm place inside the house, it will be a long time before it’s possible to plant it in the garden and watch it grow.

It’s the first time I’ve planted this flower this year, so I’m not sure if I’ll be successful in saving the tubers and getting it to flower again and whether it will be possible to enjoy it’s heady scent in the garden next summer.

So for the time being, I’ll be bringing the sunshine scent back now that the days have grown shorter and colder.

Refreshing herb tea foot soak

This is the easiest recipe to make at home which will revive and refresh tired aching feet. I had all the ingredients in my garden. Better still, the only cost involved was just the use of the pre-made little tea bag pouches which I got online. One hundred of these little pouches ready to fill with tea leaves, herbs or anything which you want to infuse or soak in hot water.

For this refreshing herb tea foot soak, I simply picked a small bunch of mint leaves, a few sprigs of rosemary and some lavender buds which were still flowering in the last days of summer.

A dash of Dead Sea salt, which I already had in my cupboard and a few drops of Peppermint and Lemon Essential Oils, and Orange Blossom Water all mixed roughly together in the tea bag pouch.

Soak in a bowl of boiling water for as long as you want and pour into a warm bowl of clean water. Ready to soak tired weary feet.

I know this seems like quite a bit of effort, but after a long day at work, I like the idea and ritual of preparing something a little indulgent, a little bit of me time to indulge in. The scent is uplifting and has this magical way of transforming the  room into a scented retreat.

Feet are now soaked and feeling light and refreshed. Hmm now for that pedicure, a colourful treat for my toes.

The scent of rain

image

Last evening as I walked home, the pavement was damp with the rain that had fallen earlier in the afternoon. The weekend had been hot and sunny, the warmest it has been for a while.

As I walked the scent of the rain was everywhere. It is such a wonderful scent and made the walk home all the more enjoyable. The smell evoked freshly cut grass and earthiness as if nature all around had finally burst through.

It seems that there’s a great deal of scientific study that’s been done on this subject.

Scientists in Australia first named it Petrichor, and they worked out that it is the blend of oils secreted by plants after a dry spell.  These oils, when released become mixed in the air and creates the smell that we associate with rain.

We have a screen of ferns, at the front of our house which in wetter years, grow amazingly tall. As I arrived home, I noticed the tiny beads of rain on the fronds. I’m glad that I managed to capture it.

This year, the fronds of the ferns have reached over the windowsill of our front window. I am grateful that they are so beautiful to look at, as they distract everyone from the sight of our windows which have not been painted since we moved in.image

Every year, without fail, the ferns grow back after they have died down in winter and even though, most years we forget and neglect them as they should be cut back once the frost has taken hold.  The fronds turn brown and brittle and lose the lush green of summer.  We usually don’t get round to cutting them back until it is almost spring, and then all the faults in our front windows become glaringly obvious. It is a surprise that they grow back so quickly after being so badly treated.

This year, I am determined to get a decorator to paint the windows, they are very old. We live in what is referred to as a 1930’s semi and the romantic in me wants to keep the leaded panes of glass, but they are now letting in water and urgently need attention.  Having an old house means there is a constant list of things that needs to be fixed.

But, just for a brief while, the rain and the luscious green fronds of these ferns have replaced the never ending to-do list and I am thinking about poetry, the verses of John  Betjeman about surburbia and the beautiful rain in Summer by Longfellow:

How beautiful is the rain!

After the dust and heat,

In the broad and firey street,

In the narrow lane,

How beautiful is the rain

Back to that never-ending to-do list…..