Stop and Smell
“I wish you could record smells…” Our middlest son expressed this as we stood in front of this flowering bush last night in northern Tanzania. We had followed its fragrance down a path and across lawn. Its scent was strong, sweet and wonderful.
J and I resisted diving deeply into “Well, as a matter of fact, did you know that smell is the sense most associated with memory blah blah blah.” We did talk about good memories, good smells, and how to capture a moment.
Some recent memorable smells for me:
Cinnamon toast on a woodstove
The Ankara hotel that smelled “just like Pakistan”
Spicy-sweet earthy smell of Ngorongoro conservation area
Damp, old air of Cappadocia cave dwellings
A hand-me-down shirt in a care package that smelled just like the Gaskins house
I do wish we could bottle some of these smells (not that hotel!) to record and re-live and remember. It’s probably better that we can’t, lest I be tempted to tuck it in my pocket to enjoy later rather than savoring it in the moment.
I did not ask what this flower is called — its fragrance is more important than its name to me today.
And while we are in this place, I’m going “stop and smell” the nameless beauty, and inhale deeply.
Oh, I could cry. Smell some for me, too.
This is beautiful, Suby!