The scents of summer, or, I wish I were a dog.

I've used my nose quite a bit this summer. It started early this spring, too early really to be logical, but what can I say. Instant satisfaction is such a human trait. Of course I'm talking about the first barbecue of the year. The one where one huddles close to the fire, battling the chill of spring. The scent of the first sausages grilling came drifting from the neighbors yard, signaling the start of summer. A defiant start, certainly, at only +15 degrees Celsius, but a start none the less. After some time, that scent becomes common, and indistinct.  That's when the Hackberry takes over. The trees turn white with blossoms, and your nose gets another delicious treat. Lilacs are next on the list, then bridal wreath spirea and roses. Not forgetting the scent of freshly mowed grass, or the salty scent of the beach.

After rainfall we get treated with the scent of petrichor. The official explanation of petrichor has to do with plants emitting oils during dry spells, which seeps into the soil and are released by rain. But the explanation I like best, although it's not true at all, is that that's how it smells all the time, but that our human nostrils can't detect it unless the humidity is at a certain level. I shamelessly substitute the truth with my own fake, but more romantic version. (It just goes to show that sometimes the first thing you accidentally read on-line is the thing that sticks with you.)

Anyway, today this made me think that I might like to be a dog, if that's how the world smells like all the time for them. What a wonderful experience that would be! No wonder dogs run around sticking their nose everywhere! Although... What's up with the crotch-sniffing?
I'd most definitely leave that one out. 

*Woof, Woof*

Sincerely,

Pepsi-Mama