When you embark on an exhilarating adventure, you naturally relish in your individual joy. But don’t think that your body doesn’t have the ability to enjoy too; every part of it feels the thrill just as you do. Each of your senses, including your nose, has its own story to tell. A tantalizing, delicious and lip-smacking stock of tales would offer goose bumps to attentive ears if those two nostrils were to unravel their experiences.
Well you would need to be the quintessential sniffer if you want that aromatic memory bank recharged. Just pay attention to the moment’s smells.
Trampling and stomping my heavy feet on wet leaves for a long time soon got me lost in my peaceful serenade through the woods. Suddenly the sun peeped through some cracks in the trees and caught my eye, blurring my vision. I was finally caught off guard and my right foot stepped into something slimy and wet. Soon my nostrils were filled with the raw stench of fresh buffalo dung.
Another time when we had almost outdone ourselves from a back-breaking hike and the grumbling sound of our stomachs was ringing in our ears, the aromatic splendor of hot, steaming noodles elated us to another gastric dimension. We might have finished half of our meal just by inhaling the delicious smell.
The smell of furry companions can pervade all over your skin if you become a victim of passionate drooling and licking while also making a new best friend. You can offer them belly rubs in exchange for fresh canine odor. A fair deal, isn’t it?
My experience of ice climbing was a romantic phenomenon of my persistent kissing and hugging the ice. I just could not bear to keep a steady balance with my wobbly feet in crampons on the ice, as my body wanted to perpetually slip and fall in the cold embrace of the glacier. So at the end of the day the smell of dirt and sediments accumulated on the glacier emanated from my soaked climbing clothes.
The smell of rain invading the atmosphere while dark clouds hover over distant hills fascinates my nostrils quite a lot. A strange enigma can shroud one’s mind if this aroma of dripping leaves and wet moss is accompanied by a light fog floating by and attempting to drown the faint yet shrill cicadas conducting a phantasmal orchestral performance among the alpine vegetation. This smell rejuvenates your soul.
Sometimes back in my city I wake up to strange forgotten smells that muddle up my awareness of where I am: the nauseous ambiance of the city or the fresh and cold air of the hills.