"This web of time -- the strands of which approach one another, bifurcate, intersect or ignore each other through the centuries -- embrace every possibility".
- Jorge Luis Borges, "The Garden of Forking Paths"

The forest is calling me these days. And thankfully it is right at my back yard. The water I frequently visit as it’s my most immediate calling. The proximity to water and all it’s aspects is very soothing: the physical and metaphorical reflection, the lulling sound of the waves’ rhythm... Sometimes competing sounds are complementary, sometimes dissonant: the waves clashing on the rocks, my boots tapping on the seawall at the exact pace of 2 full-circles of the aquaplane’s propellor... I observe, listen, become one with the moist air, the sights and the sounds. And come back feeling cleansed and refreshed.

The forest, on the other hand, calls for digging deeper into the secrets of the soul. It might hold some wonderful surprises, but also some scary ones - encountering fears and demons in the darkness between the branches and amidst the bogs and marshes of the woods.

Circling Beaver Lake this morning, it was inevitable to think about death and decay.
Two runners pass me, providing a temporary comical break: a gay couple with identical pet dogs that although tiny seem to be pulling their respective owners forward with their leashes tied to their belly buttons...

Back to the marshlands though: it’s being sucked dry by invasive waterlilies: foreign beauties that take over the lake and turn it into a blooming garden. Like ornamental dolls, they look prettier and smell nicer than the skunk cabbages, but unfortunately are just nearly useless for the wood ducks, beavers and other wildlife that call this lake their home. If the forest is the place of healing of the planet, the green lungs that reverse CO2 into oxygen - then we must start eradicating the invasive species that threaten it from thriving. 

Urban meets nature in every corner I set eyes on here. In the Pacific Northwest it is sometimes hard to say who wins the battle: while logging and concrete are a constant concern for wildlife and natural habitats -- moss and wandering ferns take over my porch without any cultivation attempts, and coyotes roam freely in the city.

The rainforest is a constant source of inspiration to me, not only because of its rich flora and fauna; but also because within it lie so many answers to life’s quest. And the most difficult search is - when you don’t even know what you’re searching for... Thankfully, the forest provides some answers even to that.

Amid the greens and browns, an orange colour pops out: no, it’s not a persimmon that a careless park goer spat out on a log. Nor is a group of lanterns on a distant, dead Douglas fir that is still standing upright. These are the most peculiar, slimy bright orange fungi.



You are probably wondering by now what is the point of this post, as I do. There is no point, except for the wonderment of the forest itself. No matter what else I will bring up we will end up on the same intersection as in the many paths and trails that divide and meet again in Stanley Park.

It's full moon & the New Year of the Trees (a rather obscure Jewish holiday).

If you have an almond blossom perfume, now is the time to wear it - the almond trees are traditionally in full bloom at this time of the year in Israel (though the almond flower in the picture was taken sometime in mid December). There aren't too many almond perfumes in my repertoire, or in my collection. Farnesiana  with its violet-macarons and marzipan aroma comes to mind. Oh, and there is also the almost forgotten KenzoAmour LeParfum, as well as a couple of soaps I adore - l'Occitane's Almond Delicious exfoliating soap and Royal Herbs' Honey & Oatmeal soap. And last but not least - Gabriel's Aunt Biscotti candle.

Tomorrow would be a good day to spend time in nature, noting and contemplating the early awakening and preparations of the plants and animals for the end of winter. The winter might seem endless but it's already showing some signs of weakening...

And back to the topic of almonds - it's a note that's mostly associated with benzaldehyse - that molecule that smells like bitter almonds, although isn't quite bitter on its own. It's what you taste in almond extract, and most cherry flavouring. Pure, 100% natural bitter almond essence is hard to find because of some legalities . For food use, the prussic acid (aka cyanide) must be removed, and you have to show some certification before purchasing it even for fragrance use.

And there is also the caramelize almond like aspect of tonka beans, a characteristic of coumarin. You'd also find coumarin in high doses in hay absolute and liatrix (deer's tongue) absolutes. However, neither remind me of almonds as much as tonka beans: they smell more like luscious raisins. Also appropriate for Tu BiShvat, when dried fruit get more attention than any other time of the year.

Last but not least: heliotripin, which is hard to find as a natural isolate (but naturally occurs in Tahitian vanilla beans). Also known as piperonal, it smells like marzipan and cherry pie, and very much like the flower heliotrope - sheer heaven.