Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Write, Focusing on the Sense of Smell
The cheese was where they took you first, rather than to the subtler smells. Here you learned “grass”, “ash”, “brine”, “nutty”, “fresh”, and even “caramel”. “Caramel?” I asked. Yes, on this Vermont brie; get a whiff of the rind. There was nothing to be done except obey orders; I found that the brink of madness stank like wild cotton, and that summer, too, that epiphany was like fresh dresses drying on the line.
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“PeeeeeeUuuuuuuu!” says my son from the back seat of the car. His voice is smothered, like it is coming from the back of his throat. In the rear view mirror I can see he is holding his nose. I can also see his sister fanning her hand in front of her face. “Daaaaaad!” she yells in a disgusted tone.
ReplyDelete“He who smelt it dealt it.” I tell them, laughing.
They want me to roll down the window but I won’t. The landscapers are out in force, and on fine spring days they spread manure like rancid peanut butter across the yards so that we can enjoy fragrant flowers in May. I try to explain this to them, but they don’t believe me.