One Winter Morning
Theres a chill in the air today. The ombre grey skies foretell of it, before you even step outside. The light, a filtered haziness that comes from nowhere but everywhere at once. Trees sway. Body listens. To invisible sounds on a silent movie screen through wide panes of glass.
I step outside and sniff the air. Eyes closed, I smell the familiar. A sweetness, an odor, that no words can describe, but ushers forth memories of life, childhood, family, dreams, moments. Specfic moments. Individual moments. A breath in time. How does one breath so efficiently remind you of all that has been and all that is here now?
Weaving together past and present on the waves of a single smell.
I open my eyes, this moment has happened many times before. I shuffle in Pajamas and an overstuffed puffy coat, shoes barely on my feet, down to the driveway. Each step is a memory unfolding. I get something from the car, pick up the paper and look around. A neighbor is walking two white dogs on a long red leash. A golden brown leaf drifts downward, in slow motion, through the air. A single black bird glides from one tree to another. That smell, I notice it again.
Its not just winter and fireplaces and smoke in the air and pine needles and dried up leaves.
Its so much more.
I walk up the stairs back to the house.
And a warmth fills my heart.
A warmth the lives in the simple memories of passing moments.
of taking the time to notice.
to sniff the air.