Thursday, June 3, 2010

If Only They Were Scratch & Sniff

Fragrance in the garden now is ...almost describable. Almost.

It seems the only way you can describe a smell, is by referencing another smell. 
New mown grass. Beer. Bread. Rotten eggs. Those seem to be a few of the "primary" smells you use to describe others smells.

I know. Sounds funhouse mirror weird.

But take this magnolia, for example.

If you've ever smelled one, or floated one in water with a candle, you might describe it as a lemony honeyed aroma. It smells like heaven.

 The gardenias-- wow. Thick seductive sweet vanilla-ey.

I remember reading Mary Karr's memoir-- the first one-- and the way she described the smell of the factory town, paper factory probably:
it " smelled like a wicked fart. "
I got that.

From Richard Price: "A greasy aroma drifted down from the third-floor food court — spare ribs and Cinnabons..."

Okay, from one of my own--SECRET KEEPERS. Emma and her grandson:

Emma stepped beside Kyle and breathed in the scent of his neck--soap, a little sweat, a whiff of smoke and something else, something boyish and budding, tickly as pollen. He smelled delicious.  

Sensory detials i

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