The clap of wood pigeons returning at dusk to leaf heavy trees, and a stroll back from the tennis court. You kick open the lopsided gate and the old wrought iron presses into a wall of evergreen jasmine. Suddenly the heady scent bursts through the mesh and floats into the gloaming. Evening rolls in, you’re still in tennis whites, tanned limbs, everyone on the terrace, a long drink, ice and lemon, a hint of Sicilian bergamot and stars begin to stud the sky. Creamy fragrant summer night air is like a cloak of happiness and your thoughts run on through time to winter jasmine, bright festive candles, a snowy table cloth, a log fire fragrant with vetiver that catches your heart. Christmas nostalgia in the summer air, and summer notes in a winter flower room, this is the sweet and endless dream of jasmine.
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