olfactory receptors

I was walking by an empty, overgrown lot the other day and got a whiff of cedar. It was remarkable. I closed my eyes and I was back in California. I was walking the shadowy Independence trail, ducking under branches, sliding, ever-so-carefully down the empty creek bed, hopping across the teetering, wooden foot bridge, dipping my feet in the freezing pool at the end of the trail — filled with mating newts, twirling and spinning and fucking in groups — and plopping myself onto a hot rock.

There is nothing better than that smell. Add a cloud of freshly kicked up red dust, crushed pine cones, manzanita branches and wild blackberries and you’re in the Sierra Nevadas of Northern California.

I have so many memories attached to smells. Tomato leaves, wilted from the sun, dampened dust after rain, freshly mowed grass and trampled mint. Each season has its own particular scent. Each occasion its own distinct blend.

Someone woke up this morning and said, “It’s a fine day for a fire.”

Perhaps it’s the rain. Or, the drop from 86 to 81 degrees. I suppose this is chilly for Brooklyn in July.

I can’t imagine why anyone would be lighting their wood-burning stove today. But they did. And, it’s magnificent.

Is it wrong that smoke makes me nostalgic for California? Given the current drought situation it seems macabre to be daydreaming about such things. But, I can’t help it.

My sweatshirt is soaking up the the oak’s insides, the sap sizzling and popping, creating a fountain of bright orange ember. We’re sipping Makers and staring into the sun’s reflection in the moon. Stars. So many stars. And darkness. It’s so damn bright in New York.

I’m roasting marshmallows and drinking bloody beers at 9am. Baking potatoes, canned beans, sausages, whose idea was it to bring the instant coffee? I love you. Waking with the sun. The sensation of heat as a being, an entity, trapped inside your tent, pushing against your ears, squeezing your thighs until your eyes are forced open. The sound of the ocean in the morning. Constant, magnetic, totally, totally scary. I mean, the ocean is gorgeous and hypnotizing and totally terrifying, right? I find the warm sand to be a perfect place to enjoy that majestic beast.

All this in one breath.

Thanks for the smoke, Brooklyn.

Posts Tagged ‘olfactory receptors’

olfactory receptors pt.2