3 Nov 2019, 20:17
Morning Rosemary
Juniper was up earlier than necessary. Although she would normally sleep as late as any eleven-year-old given the freedom, she relished the opportunity to be up before dawn. She loved watching the way the day begun - the glow of the sun before it rose, the building bird songs, the hushed quiet of a sleeping house.
Here in the castle, she couldn’t hear the birds, but the rustles of her sleeping housemates was nice in its own way. It gave her an early sense of accomplishment, being one of the first to wake. She tiptoed around the girls’ dormitory, gingerly turning the key in her trunk, carefully removing her clothes. She selected a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and her favorite teal sweater. She put on her thickest pair of socks and a beloved pair of black galoshes she’d brought from home. She smiled. She hadn’t been sure these would come in useful at school or not, but here she was with chance to garden within her third month at school - not bad. They were still in Scotland, after all. Juniper knew well what to expect of a cold November morning.
She grabbed her gardening gloves and a wool hat and, ready to go, crept as quietly out of the dormitory as galoshes allowed.
The dense, wonderful quiet of early morning lay heavily in the castle corridors. Juniper delighted in the way her galoshes squelched along the stone floors and echoed down the hallway, then fell silent along the carpets. Knowing it was best to pick herbs dry and knowing the dew would still be wet on the grounds, she headed to the great hall to find herself some coffee and maybe a quick breakfast before heading to the greenhouses.
Juniper had picked and dried herbs every fall from their garden back home. It was one of her mother’s secrets to cooking so well for guests, and the drying bundles of herbs from the rafters filled the Bed & Breakfast cottages with cozy aromas and decoration. Juniper was hoping to find gobs of rosemary in the school gardens - one of her favorites to pick.
One bowl of porridge later, Juniper was on her way out the great hall doors. She moved quickly, hoping to make it through the doors still carrying her mug of coffee. No one seemed to notice.
Shouldering open a heavy castle door, she was careful not to let the mug of coffee slosh as she stepped outside into the brisk morning. Oorlich, she thought to herself. Damp, but with a bite to the air. It was not yet eight o’clock, and the dew was hazily evaporating from the grounds. Juniper thought they had never looked so magical. Glad again for her galoshes, she tramped across the damp lawn towards the greenhouses and gardens, where she’d find a place to lean and finish her mug of coffee.
Here in the castle, she couldn’t hear the birds, but the rustles of her sleeping housemates was nice in its own way. It gave her an early sense of accomplishment, being one of the first to wake. She tiptoed around the girls’ dormitory, gingerly turning the key in her trunk, carefully removing her clothes. She selected a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt and her favorite teal sweater. She put on her thickest pair of socks and a beloved pair of black galoshes she’d brought from home. She smiled. She hadn’t been sure these would come in useful at school or not, but here she was with chance to garden within her third month at school - not bad. They were still in Scotland, after all. Juniper knew well what to expect of a cold November morning.
She grabbed her gardening gloves and a wool hat and, ready to go, crept as quietly out of the dormitory as galoshes allowed.
The dense, wonderful quiet of early morning lay heavily in the castle corridors. Juniper delighted in the way her galoshes squelched along the stone floors and echoed down the hallway, then fell silent along the carpets. Knowing it was best to pick herbs dry and knowing the dew would still be wet on the grounds, she headed to the great hall to find herself some coffee and maybe a quick breakfast before heading to the greenhouses.
Juniper had picked and dried herbs every fall from their garden back home. It was one of her mother’s secrets to cooking so well for guests, and the drying bundles of herbs from the rafters filled the Bed & Breakfast cottages with cozy aromas and decoration. Juniper was hoping to find gobs of rosemary in the school gardens - one of her favorites to pick.
One bowl of porridge later, Juniper was on her way out the great hall doors. She moved quickly, hoping to make it through the doors still carrying her mug of coffee. No one seemed to notice.
Shouldering open a heavy castle door, she was careful not to let the mug of coffee slosh as she stepped outside into the brisk morning. Oorlich, she thought to herself. Damp, but with a bite to the air. It was not yet eight o’clock, and the dew was hazily evaporating from the grounds. Juniper thought they had never looked so magical. Glad again for her galoshes, she tramped across the damp lawn towards the greenhouses and gardens, where she’d find a place to lean and finish her mug of coffee.
483/1000 words
Last edited by Juniper Irving on 20 Nov 2019, 23:24, edited 1 time in total.
Juniper Irving
Sta: 5 Eva: 7 Str: 3 Wis: 9 Arc: 5 Acc: 5
4 Nov 2019, 00:30
Morning Rosemary
@Boniface Murtagh MacTavish
Leaning against one of the greenhouses, Juniper sipped her quickly cooling coffee and looked around. She was one of the first students out, but more were arriving. She saw she was in good company - it seemed the type who were drawn to an early-morning gardening errand were her type of people. Many were already making their way along the rows of herbs, bending and clipping bunches, shaking the dew off the gathered bundles rather than waiting for it to evaporate. Still, Juniper hung back and watched, feeling too shy to make any introductions, wanting to enjoy her coffee and harvest once the dew was dry, as she’d been taught.
It was going to be a sunny day and the dew had vanished before too long. She found pruning shears and twine in the open greenhouse, and then she found the rosemary easily. Growing in one of the sunniest patches of garden, it stood in thick, aromatic rows, waist-high and vibrant green. Stooping along the rows, Juniper took the garden shears and began to gather the herb with clean, flat cuts. The shears were wickedly sharp and made easy work of the tough stems. Moving along the rows, she cut what she estimated was the about 20% of the plants, automatically deferring to how Ms. McGriff had demonstrated and demanded of her every season. She built bundles of clipping about a forearm’s width, and tied them tightly with twine, knowing how they’d shrink every so slightly as they dried. She soon fell into an easy pattern: cut, bundle, tie, repeat. She lay her bundles of rosemary neatly spaced along the ground as she went, waiting to be scooped back up when she was ready to make her way back to the greenhouse.
Back in her jeans and galoshes, lost in a familiar, repetitive activity, and steeped in the smell of the freshly cut herbs, Juniper felt the most quintessentially herself that she had in her entire time at Hogwarts so far. She quickly let go of the weight of any stress she’d been carrying the past few months, feeling lighter and simply happier. Smell is a powerful agent of memory, and instead of thinking of all the upcoming classes that day, all the homework she had to do and all the things that could possibly be going on at home, Juniper instead remembered every delicious thing she had every eaten with rosemary. Lavender rosemary rolls her mother baked were her absolute favorite. But there was also rosemary focaccia, rosemary-orange scones, shortbreads and popovers and lemon-rosemary cake… not to mention rosemary with roasted carrots, rosemary crusted pork roasts, apple-cranberry stuffing, even as an herb on popcorn. Before she knew it, she’d come to the end of the rows, and had only to retrace her steps and gather the bundles she’d left like breadcrumbs along her path.
Only now did it occur to her that perhaps Professor MacTavish had different standards than McGriff… had she clipped too much? Or not enough… was she supposed to cut all the plants before winter set it?
She carried her heft of rosemary bundles into the greenhouse, where other students were busy tying more herbs into bundles. Beset by doubts, she found MacTavish and presented him with her armful of rosemary.
“Pardon me, professor… will this be enough? Would you like me to hang them somewhere?”
Leaning against one of the greenhouses, Juniper sipped her quickly cooling coffee and looked around. She was one of the first students out, but more were arriving. She saw she was in good company - it seemed the type who were drawn to an early-morning gardening errand were her type of people. Many were already making their way along the rows of herbs, bending and clipping bunches, shaking the dew off the gathered bundles rather than waiting for it to evaporate. Still, Juniper hung back and watched, feeling too shy to make any introductions, wanting to enjoy her coffee and harvest once the dew was dry, as she’d been taught.
It was going to be a sunny day and the dew had vanished before too long. She found pruning shears and twine in the open greenhouse, and then she found the rosemary easily. Growing in one of the sunniest patches of garden, it stood in thick, aromatic rows, waist-high and vibrant green. Stooping along the rows, Juniper took the garden shears and began to gather the herb with clean, flat cuts. The shears were wickedly sharp and made easy work of the tough stems. Moving along the rows, she cut what she estimated was the about 20% of the plants, automatically deferring to how Ms. McGriff had demonstrated and demanded of her every season. She built bundles of clipping about a forearm’s width, and tied them tightly with twine, knowing how they’d shrink every so slightly as they dried. She soon fell into an easy pattern: cut, bundle, tie, repeat. She lay her bundles of rosemary neatly spaced along the ground as she went, waiting to be scooped back up when she was ready to make her way back to the greenhouse.
Back in her jeans and galoshes, lost in a familiar, repetitive activity, and steeped in the smell of the freshly cut herbs, Juniper felt the most quintessentially herself that she had in her entire time at Hogwarts so far. She quickly let go of the weight of any stress she’d been carrying the past few months, feeling lighter and simply happier. Smell is a powerful agent of memory, and instead of thinking of all the upcoming classes that day, all the homework she had to do and all the things that could possibly be going on at home, Juniper instead remembered every delicious thing she had every eaten with rosemary. Lavender rosemary rolls her mother baked were her absolute favorite. But there was also rosemary focaccia, rosemary-orange scones, shortbreads and popovers and lemon-rosemary cake… not to mention rosemary with roasted carrots, rosemary crusted pork roasts, apple-cranberry stuffing, even as an herb on popcorn. Before she knew it, she’d come to the end of the rows, and had only to retrace her steps and gather the bundles she’d left like breadcrumbs along her path.
Only now did it occur to her that perhaps Professor MacTavish had different standards than McGriff… had she clipped too much? Or not enough… was she supposed to cut all the plants before winter set it?
She carried her heft of rosemary bundles into the greenhouse, where other students were busy tying more herbs into bundles. Beset by doubts, she found MacTavish and presented him with her armful of rosemary.
“Pardon me, professor… will this be enough? Would you like me to hang them somewhere?”
560/1000 words - 1043 total
Juniper Irving
Sta: 5 Eva: 7 Str: 3 Wis: 9 Arc: 5 Acc: 5