Wednesday walk: The Smell Of Life

Wednesday is always a day to think about. To think about our values. About expensive things that I wanted to have and no longer want. About things that cost nothing: the sea, the smell of the forest, the fog after the summer rain. About things that only cost a little: a cozy bed after a long day, a good book and a cup of coffee. And about what is priceless: loved ones. There's something to think about while you're walking. True happiness and success are not always recognizable at first glance. Not always covered in peacock feathers.

People really often do not recognize their happiness. Only after it disappears, do they understand what it was. Most often, happiness, like all of our lives, is imperfect, with flaws. Not ideal. Quite simple. And, unfortunately, not forever. And then all the flowers bloom and wither. And the stars quiver, shake, and like midsummer dew falls to the ground, their dust settles on those flowers, on damp moss. The shortest night of the year is already in the past. We are again living in an old rhythm that leads us down to a new cycle - the cycle of shorter days.

Life leads us through blooming summer meadows, we walk through them from childhood to old age. And today I am wandering there searching for smells.

It smells of gasoline, grease, burning. This is the smell of summer in the city.

Sand's smell, pine trees', wind's, water's smell, the smell of cut grass - this is the scent of summer in the countryside. Not only does summer have its own smell, all seasons have it.

The morning smells one way, the evening another. In one way - children, in another - old people. The smell of pain - medicines, hospital wards. The smell of a feeling of happiness, joy - maybe your favorite perfume. The aroma of home - that real childhood home - a whiff of vanilla, apple scent.

Life and death also have its own scent.

And flowers always, for some reason, in my imagination, smell of longing. It used to be longing for the future, now it is more about the past.

Childhood smells like wild flowers; daffodils have a scent of school; mother smells like peony, and celebrations like roses. Summer rain smells like happiness. The sea - freedom.

Nietzsche once claimed that even the crowd has its own smell, as well as common objects. Library books, according to the philosopher, stink.

This is the way we live - we are scanning the world with our senses. It is the power of smell that is stronger than words, sights, feelings and will. It is impossible to resist the influence of a smell, it is impossible to defend against it.

If someone told me to choose one single scent out of all the ones in the world, I would probably choose something from sand, wind, grass. I would choose the smell of freedom and peace. My walks have this smell also.

Some modern writers claim that now, when we are all in endless online mode, we live like a museum of wax figures. Apparently, a lot of things are artificial. And there are no smells here. If you want to find it - go for a walk outside.

Real life flows only where everything is alive, where it is not the cold glow of the phone screen at dusk, but where grass, trees, flowers, and rippling water grow. Where everything around smells.

The fantasy writer would probably add that the time will come when humanity will start producing perfumes with the aromas of fresh air, wind, and grass after becoming too civilized. It is already being produced.

While walking, I thought that if I had been at home, I would now be surrounded by the smell of linden trees. Because there are only blooming linden around - seven outside the house, in the park nearby, in the whole town. It smells perfectly.

Many things fade from memory, but we will probably distinguish the smells of childhood until our last breath. For me, childhood smells of daffodils and lilies of the valley. The smell of warmed-up horses after carting hay or other work. The smell of fresh milk. Today I thought about how long ago I saw a horse-drawn cart. And once upon a time, it was the daily life of the village, the main means of transport. How times change, how many things sink irretrievably.

But we really probably need everything. All kinds of experiences, smells, all kinds of intensity and real life (and a little of cyber life). And inspiration to go on - we get it literally with smells.

It was a relaxing walk today full of flowers' beauty and smells.

πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’πŸ’

With love, @madeirane
Photos are taken by me.
Β© 2024

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