I’m watching fresh basil in a glass in the light. The roasted red pepper soup down and now the Vegetable soup is simmering. I have plants under my nails turning a brown and read (I meant red, but I like read) and green. When I bring them close to my face they smell like cilantro and parsley and remind me of Pat. Must be masculine spices – sweet and edgy. But the smell of garlic and honey reminds me of C. And lavender – my mom. Tula – fur and cotton and clean. And Rosemary, rosemary reminds me of our yard in California in the sun with the jays.
Don't steal. It hurts my feelings.
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Beautiful, Rachel, to wander and wonder through scent.
Our strongest sense, some say. A whiff can pull in a chapter of memories. . .
Lemon verbena does this for me, as does the dusty smell of birdseed, the lingering fragrance of my daughter in a room, the scent inherent in my single (queen, actually!) antique linen sheet. . . sending you love and hugs, Claire xo
I love your smells. Lemon and birdseed, your daughter and sheets. yes, smells take us out of our bodies. ahhhhh.
sending love as well. xoxo Rachel
what do I smell like?!?! Man, I hope it’s champaign and strawberries …
Like horse poop. tee-hee, tee-hee. =)
I don’t remember!! I haven’t seen you in so long! You smell like Anthro and that cherry perfume you used to wear.