I've been taking time this week to stop and smell the roses. Literally, I bend over in my neighbors' front yard, check that nobody is watching, and then bury my head in the flowers.
I've also been walking into bakeries, walking around without buying anything.
After having surgery on my broken nose 18 months ago, I haven't been able to smell or taste things.
This week, however, my nose is back in business.
I've been overwhelmed by smells, and it's given mea new way of thinking. A pleasant smell is just one of the little bits and pieces that make life enjoyable, but which we often ignore. I remember once, when my son was five months old, I was carrying him down the street. Wind swept through and almost tipped us over. He threw his little head back and giggled. He'd never felt the wind on his face. When is the last time I laughed at the weather?
The first time I ate bacon, I rushed home to my parents, determined that we ate this deliciousness at every meal. My father smiled and agreed.
We don't write postcards about the small things. We don't frame them in photographs. They aren't that great or grand, but without them, life is altogether too loud. These quiet experiences give us a chance to enjoy the simple fact of being alive.
As my sense of smell returns to me, it's like I'm smelling things for the first time. They're full of memories and magic. Food tastes better, and the air is indeed sweet. I know what the poets mean now. It almost makes my broken nose worthwhile. Now, I am waiting for this bandage to come off. There's an itch I can't reach!
