Dusk Dew. There is a quality to Autumn dew that cannot be found in the dew of Spring or Summer--it sharpens the nostrils, the way a dish of bloater paste on toast edges the appetite of a cold morning. Dusk is the time to enjoy it. In the valley the mist softly gathers and mauves steal across the farther hills. From the ground rise faint and penetrating fumes--the honey aroma of late Phlox, the spice of Yarrow foliage and of Helenium flowers from the near-by border, the saccharine fragrance of a late Clematis star, and overlying all these subtleties, the persistent, sweaty spice of wet soil and damp fallen leaves.
Richardson Wright
The Gardener's Bed-Book
