The scent of the oregano rose in a heady perfume as it baked in the late summer sun. I leaned down to breathe in the aroma that reminded me of Italy. I stretched out my fingers and drew them through the tough spiky leaves of the rosemary. Rosemary for remembrance, I brought my fingers to my nose to inhale the deep, dry scent of yesteryear as my eyes rested of the soft wrinkles gathered in the speckled skin on the back of my hand.
Where had the years gone? As I breathed in the scent of rosemary and oregano my mind drifted back to the impulsive young woman I had once been. I remembered the joy I felt under the Italian sun and my beautiful Italian lover. I thought I was so worldly wise having left New Zealand’s provincial, old fashioned, small town mentality. Flying on a jet plane to what I thought was the centre of the world.
The sixties, a time of freedom and love exploring the all the taboos that would make the old ladies at home mutter about my downfall. Dancing, drinking, sex and drugs, my younger self thought she had world by its tail. Breaking the rules she had abided by all her life, thumbing her nose at tradition. A crazy romp through the younger years believing she owned the secrets of both inner and outer worlds that she inhabited.
I look back with faded eyes at her innocence. At the world the young race through, thinking they own the moment, not realising they follow the footsteps of all the young in all the ages. Now in the hot sun with the scent of rosemary and oregano wreathing me in the real secret of earth’s embrace, I have arrived home within myself.
