Good Scents

The other day I am driving home from work, all urban surface streets. And then it is everywhere. The smell of jasmine is in the air. And England Dan and John Ford Coley are no where to be found. It is everywhere, radiating. I breathe deep and deeper still to capture the flower fragrance. And I feel good, just because of a little white flower I never experienced till I moved here.

So it set me to thinking about other good scents that bring me to optimism. Even to happiness.

A few are common place I guess, but the scents are not. Ocean air in the early morning. Late night. Anytime. Sizzling bacon before the eggs meet up with them. Morning coffee, but only if made by someone else as you lie in your bed. A baby after a changing and the application of fresh powder. The first burn of a fireplace. This is one soon to be gone in California as the green folks have banished it. A loss. Laundry just dried outside on the line. Another forbidden one, the smell of the light up of a cigarette. I remember childhood and my dad. I am a beneficiary of second hand smoke in the memory department. Just cut grass. My dad used to kind of ruin that one by telling me that in the army, if you caught the smell of grass, you needed to put on your gas mask. But so far, no need for gas masks here. Unless you are buying food insurance and gold, which I have to tell you occurs to me sometimes given the news of the day.

I particularly love the smell of a newly purchased Oprah Magazine. The shiny pages have a scent of possibility, and it doesn't cost a cent for the scent. Vanilla. Anything vanilla. Candles in particular burning over a glass of wine and a chat with a friend.

Somehow it is very pleasant to think of these scents. Makes me feel oddly safe, although there is no logic to it. Reminds me of moments without challenge, without obligation, easy and carefree.