There are a few smells I really love: Archie’s ears, the bit of pine forest at the corner of Franks land that looks over the convergence, frying garlic. These are smells that many people would like were they lucky enough to find their noses near enough.
My favorite smell in the world though can only really be enjoyed fully by me. Abby in general, especially the top of her head, is likely the greatest smell anyone has ever smelled, but it’s just my nose that’s capable of smelling that smell.
There’s the smell itself, then there’s the heady cocktail of ingredients in my own brain and belly that make me particulalry susceptible to it’s excellence.
My favorite smell in the world though can only really be enjoyed fully by me. Abby in general, especially the top of her head, is likely the greatest smell anyone has ever smelled, but it’s just my nose that’s capable of smelling that smell.
There’s the smell itself, then there’s the heady cocktail of ingredients in my own brain and belly that make me particulalry susceptible to it’s excellence.
Somewhere between fresh rain, pine pitch, and the memory of a swimming pool from when I was a kid.
Indeed our capacity to enjoy or even understand most things comes down to our history with them, our memories, traumas, pleasures. I’d suggest I like fried zucchini flowers more than any man alive and that has as much to do with them being fried as it does with my Grandmother.
The smell of Abby’s hair though goes a step further. The work she’s doing to to give life to our child has a smell that I think my soul can catch a whiff of.