Missing the Linden Tree

I can't walk from City Hall without missing the big Linden tree that used to tower over the bus stop near the Salvation Army building. Browsing just now, I came across a lovely tribute to Lindens and the enchanting fragrance their blossoms produce around this time. I loved inhaling that sweet scent. Alas, the tree was one of the victims of Sandy, as seen in this 2012 gallery of the storm's aftermath.

There are also some Lindens in front of Plainfield High School, though I can't verify whether they are still in bloom. Here is a 2007 post on the transporting effect of Linden perfume.

Last week someone on the radio was talking about how time can be reckoned by scents and blooms as well as by clocks and calendars. Scientists for centuries have observed how various flowers open at specific times and could be used to make a "floral clock."

Flower of an Hour

In my yard I have both Evening Primrose and a plant called "Flower of an Hour," which blooms briefly in the afternoon.

Scarlet Pimpernel

On Cleveland Avenue last week I spotted a tiny flower called Scarlet Pimpernel, or Poor Man's Weather Glass, both weighty names for a little roadside weed that opens with sunshine and closes in advance of storms. It was featured on Linnaeus' floral clock.

Besides hours of the day, plants signal the turn of the seasons, known to some as the "Wheel of the Year." I always look for the first Snowdrops in Spring and Linden or St. Johnswort to mark the beginning of summer.

Now that we have all sorts of timekeepers, from grandfather clocks to the Apple Watch, these herbal indicators are just remnants of the days when farmers and shepherds depended on nature to tell time. It's still fun to see them and recall the old days before atomic clocks became the modern standard.

--Bernice