The ship is immense and I’m eager to begin the journey. I glance up and through skeletal trees bearing late September leaves, I see London’s skyline. Factories pulse fragrant plooms of white smoke into the dusky night sky, and the air is spiced with the approach of October. I will miss the common luxuries of my homeland and upon this revelation I look to the crowd gathered to send us off and the last image of my England is the tearful expression of my wife.
Crisp British winds, crinkled autumnal leaves mingle with dark earth, dried leaf pods, and oaken wood from the forest near the seaport, smoke stacks pulsating musky vanilla plooms, sweet black tea, loose leaf smoking tobacco, cherry wood pipe smoke, and the faint warming aroma of amaretto brandy.