The rain stopped (nearly) and we went for F's early evening walk. The air was washed clean, and the smells were fresh.
We rounded a corner into a square occupied by a big church and were assaulted by teh smell of orange blossom. F got all excited got up close to sniff it - I really do wonder about human noses; I could smell that blocks away, she has to bury her nose in it. She even picked some and held it up to my nose.
Argggghhhh - that's like spraying human perfume up your nose. It's a smell alright? It doesn't tell any stories, it doesn't contain any gossip.
In the days when she went to work in the office, I used to give her shoes a really good sniffing when she got home every night. They had the smells of every street she had walked on, all the gossip that had been left there. Sometimes if she has been in the garden it is even on her legs. I savour it, breathing in gently to let the stories unravel in my nose and vomeronasal sac (that is the scent detecting part of my mouth - I suspect you guys don't have that). It fills my brain with all the ideas that you seem to get from words and pictures.
These days the best I can hope for is that she takes my left-over food downstairs and her slippers have the gossip from the carpark space.
We rounded a corner into a square occupied by a big church and were assaulted by teh smell of orange blossom. F got all excited got up close to sniff it - I really do wonder about human noses; I could smell that blocks away, she has to bury her nose in it. She even picked some and held it up to my nose.
Argggghhhh - that's like spraying human perfume up your nose. It's a smell alright? It doesn't tell any stories, it doesn't contain any gossip.
In the days when she went to work in the office, I used to give her shoes a really good sniffing when she got home every night. They had the smells of every street she had walked on, all the gossip that had been left there. Sometimes if she has been in the garden it is even on her legs. I savour it, breathing in gently to let the stories unravel in my nose and vomeronasal sac (that is the scent detecting part of my mouth - I suspect you guys don't have that). It fills my brain with all the ideas that you seem to get from words and pictures.
These days the best I can hope for is that she takes my left-over food downstairs and her slippers have the gossip from the carpark space.
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