The sky darkened above me today, while I walked my walk through the streets. Clouds filled up like pregnant ladies and burst their bundles all over me, soaking me from head to toe.
I don’t mind. Walking through town in this rain is interesting, though. Streets normally full of traffic-rushing and lunch-getting are quiet and calm in the rain. Looking down the street there should be hundreds of cars headed my way, but instead there is a vast expanse of shiny asphalt, reflecting back lights and shimmering like a magical path in a fairy tale.
I smell toast as I pass the houses and cars; and coffee, and also some bagels wanting some cream cheese. I smell the delicious scent of earth and dirt, as I meander through Poncho Park. There is something sweet here – perhaps a sugary treat dropped by a child – dancing next to aromas of cigarettes and exhaust fumes. Warm concrete wet with new rain, and the touch of moist grass to top off the mixture.
I heard recently that the sense of smell is the weakest sense in humans. There are times (i/e: when working with the public) that I would appreciate a weaker smeller a great deal. I, however, have super smell, and can often identify a brand of perfume just from walking into a building, or the smell of an egg salad sandwich eaten six hours ago, but somehow still lingering about the lunchor.
This super power allows me to enjoy a million little things that go unnoticed by others: someone lighting a candle on a rainy day, perhaps to sit and read a good book by; the fresh laundry smell that squeezes through the house and brushes my nose with its clean, happy scent; and the smell of life, which seems to be toast and coffee for me – scents that say it’s time to get up and start another day. Live. Be alive. Go make something of this day.