By any other name
I strolled through the local nursery yesterday and got intrigued by the roses. Dozens of varieties of all shapes, colors, and sizes. But what struck me were the little tags describing the scent of each one's blooms.
Ever read those, er, flowery descriptions of how wines taste? It was the same! Rose scent falls into a variety of categories, including "spice," "tea," "fruit," and, perhaps not surprisingly, "rose." Each of these can be light, mild, moderate, or heavy.
At first I gathered data by smelling each one after reading the tag. Then I started smelling before reading the tag, and trying to guess. Some (OK, most) were not so easy! Well, I take it back-- they were perfectly easy to smell, I just wasn't adept at categorizing them according to this intriguing system.
Clearly this is some art form. I wasn't aware of it before!
Ever read those, er, flowery descriptions of how wines taste? It was the same! Rose scent falls into a variety of categories, including "spice," "tea," "fruit," and, perhaps not surprisingly, "rose." Each of these can be light, mild, moderate, or heavy.
At first I gathered data by smelling each one after reading the tag. Then I started smelling before reading the tag, and trying to guess. Some (OK, most) were not so easy! Well, I take it back-- they were perfectly easy to smell, I just wasn't adept at categorizing them according to this intriguing system.
Clearly this is some art form. I wasn't aware of it before!
