Ah, the way the valerian scent took over the room- that was enough to trigger my mind...
You know how Proust's mind,triggered by the wafting scent of madeleines, let
itself loose and instantaneously sent Proust out on a journey of gentle and continuous travel along a
long stream of childhood memories?He had madeleine induced brain chatter.
Well, thats why I say, one man's madeleine is another man's valerian.
Immediately my mind went to the old herbalist, and of course to his granddaughter, with that gorgeously intense expression on her face. What a striking girl...But the herbalist and his granddaughter are not from the treasure chest of my own childhood memories.
They come from another treasure chest, a rather strange one that many authors seem to have in their minds. It's filled with characters, events, scenes, dialogues and witty quotes all mixed together in a rather chaotic way - almost surreal the way they have all merged together- coexisting in that chest. The chest is actually a treasure trove of worlds seen blending together with those yet unseen, words that have been spoken dancing with the words that have yet to be uttered.
Yes, the scent of the valerian was able to unlock this chest, and out poured whirling images, scents, sounds and feelings from the chest, into my mind, as I reached to take out the tea.
Like a magnet...ZAP...my valerian attracted a particular scene to single itself out and detach itself from the plethora of sights and sounds that flew out of the freshly opened Pandora's box.
Creative brain chatter was about to begin.
The valerian scent from my cupboard must have met and mingled with the valerian aroma wafting out from the stone house of the herbalist....
and it brought me there, from my kitchen to his secluded country home, eons and miles away...and I felt his fear.
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