Week 25 of PBP.
The other “L” entry is also beloved for its perfume: lavandula angustifolia. The first real memories I have of this beauty are of the endless fields of lavender in Provence. Every medieval garden my family visited in the south of France had glorious lavender plants. I loved how the sticky, spicy scent would cling to my fingers after rubbing the leaves. I stared in wonder at the bees and hoverflies and humming birds as they completely ignored my presence to flock to the sprays of purple flowers.
Sadly, as I’ve moved further and further north, my lavender plants have fair less and less well. But there are still a few hardy varieties that manage to winter over and bless my cosmetics and my cooking with their wonderful oils.
The Druid's Well 