Field Mission - Lavender SAGA

Lavender is easy to understand.

A flower with one of the most recognizable scents due to the familiar, calming sensation that it evokes. What isn’t so easy to understand is how this works scientifically.

Hopefully this diagram will clarify:

Lately, a spell of unchill-ness has come over me. While the inability to relax is the motor of my productivity during the day, I’ve struggled at night to distinguish the right time to reach for a power tool, and when it’s time to reach for my toothbrush and jammies.

My only hope of achieving lasting chill-ness was to find the strongest lavender on the planet.

Lavender saga

The flower store down the block seemed to have a decent offering of deep purple goodies. As my nose approached however, I was left wanting more. I tried desperately to cling on to a few faint traces of lavender, as they faded on the edge of my senses. This was some weak lavender. What should I have expected from a search radius of 200 feet?

I had to find the source.

I had to pull the flower from the earth with my bear hands to ensure potency.

I considered the domestic lavender fields of Virginia, Oregon, and California. The seemingly valid prospect turned dubious when I investigated the fields’ pedigree however. Bounty’s due diligence found that these fields only cropped up in the last few decades, aiming to cash out on the lavender boom brought on by Williams Sonoma and Bath and Body Works. This was lavender for the masses. New lavender.

The sensation I was after could only come from lavender grown with an elevated purpose. Thus began my pilgrimage to Provence, where bountiful fields of lavender have painted the landscape for centuries.

Once in Avignon, France. I secured a Citroen C3 (the 5th most popular civilian vehicle in France) so as to be inconspicuous whilst raiding foreign crops.

We set course for the village or Lioux. Where my intel (AirBnb owner) promised “Royal” purple lavender fields.

Tight rural roads wound lazily before ending in empty 4-way roundabouts.

A tactical break to gather field notes and plot our approach.

Soon, the paved roads transitioned to dirt as we traded internet connection for miles of wine grape trees. We drove on until a thin purple mirage tickled the horizon and then spilled over the hillsides, flooding our field of view. My heart raced.

I checked for any vigilantes before pulling off the road and clasping my sample collection pack.

A symphony of crickets and cicadas greeted me as I cracked the car door. The earth, dry as ash and caked from the sun’s intensity cracked as I crept over to the field. Dense air enveloped me like a blanket, making me feel heavier with each step. Thousands of bees danced from flower to flower, seemingly undisturbed as I stealthily entered their domain.

The scent of the lavender so powerful, it was tactile. Each breath feeling like a cocktail of equal parts oxygen and perfume as it filled my chest.

Using the pinch method I had practiced beforehand, I harvested what I calculated to be 3 lifetimes worth of active ingredient before returning to the whip.

Sticky with fragrant pollen and stained with chlorophyll, my hands gripped the steering wheel and thoughtfully coerced the shifter into first gear.

I peeled out and made my escape, disappearing though a smoke cloud of burnt rubber and Provincial dust.

As I sped away, the thrill of the heist quickly subsided and was replaced with a tsunami of calm. Along the dusty roads back to home base, I found myself baking in a floral hotbox as the sun’s rays pierced the windows of my Citroen C3 and vaporized my pilfered purple pack.

As the very conceptual essence of lavender overwhelmed me in that car, I could feel it fusing with my DNA. Though in good conscience I cannot recommend that anyone undergo this extreme degree of exposure, I reached eternal chill-ness.