Breathe

If there is anything that we share with our ancestors, it's that we live under the same sun, and walk on our hind legs.  What about the air, are we breathing the same air as in the time of the Romans? Stegosaurs? Technically yes, not the exact same configuration, but those molecules of oxygen and nitrogen have been on the earth for that long; they break down, regroup, and there you go.  The particles you breathe today may have come out of either end of a sauropod, or of a Roman gladiator; very little disappears from earth beyond the atmosphere.  I hope your coffee wasn't in your hand when you read that.

The question I have is, does it smell different?  Does breathing fresh air in a pine forest (you need to do this) provide as delightful an experience as it did in the 1800's?  Tree leaves produce oxygen, so you will feel a bit buzzed in an area heavy with foliage, and in the stillness of a forest, where the growth settles the wind forces, and things are quiet, oxygen hangs around a bit longer and concentrates in little currents.

You want to feel revived?  I urge you to find a houseplant, preferably a prolific one like a spider plant or a philodendron; now, stick your face into the leaves and inhale.  Don't be clumsy and inhale dirt for that's where the molds thrive, but in the crown of green leaves, hang your face in there and breathe.  Your headache is gone?  You're welcome.  And don't worry, the plant likes it, for you exhale carbon dioxide, just what the critter sustains itself on.

Springtime is not just jumping lambs and more daylight; the green things are returning, and when they do, you are getting the oxygen those plants are pumping out and thus feel more alive.  But the aroma, was it different so many centuries ago?  Maybe not so much as you go trundling through the woods, but within the boundaries of a town, it has to be; today we have cars, two centuries ago, it was horses, oxen, and other four-legged beastie things.  Swamps come and go, factories arrive and disappear, new chemicals are found, anything which consumes energy gives off exhaust.  Those of you that have traveled, could you tell if you were in Thailand or Egypt if you stood still with your eyes closed and fingers in your ears?

Once civilization arrived, so did herds of cows, pigs, and horses; according to ice core samples, this change created enough methane to affect the atmosphere.  Move into the Middle Ages, where sewers were a rarity and slop was dumped directly into the streets; this was also pre-Speed Stick, folks, so double up on those pomanders and hankies.  Dead things were used as ammunition for catapults and trebuchets, so these people knew not about the germs so much, but they did understand stinky.

In centuries following, along came the belching Industrial Revolution, pushing tons of coal into the air, along with the minerals and toxins from smelting iron, carbon monoxide, and as the cities became packed with workers, the gutters and bins overflowed with refuse.  The girls selling violets weren't just offering a visually pleasing bouquet, they were providing olfactory rescue if you had to walk more than a mile through twisty, narrow streets.  People in charge soon decided that a street shouldn't be a cesspool, and eventually installed sewer systems.  Civilization took one giant step forward as grateful as a foot that had missed an ochre-colored, glutinous puddle.

But lets turn towards other things; science has found a way to extract scent without harming the flower, and the largest fragrance manufacturer in the world has a very lucky man going about and capturing what may be the last fragrances of rare flowers.  Kept in chilled aluminum flasks, the essences will last for at least two hundred years, when science may recreate some of the smells that have disappeared.  Isn't that, I mean, isn't that just a wonder?

We are in winter here in the Northern Hemisphere, and in cold air, molecules travel at a much slower rate, and our noses don't pick up as much to smell.  Because winter doesn't present the menu of aromas we normally enjoy, this is the time of year that we light more scented candles, make hot soups, and bake cookies.  The indoor smells take precedence over the outdoor emptiness; oh, our busy, busy brains.  I get a kick out of us.  For the most part.

So, what would my favorites be?  Dorian mentioned old books, and in my mind, that sweet tannin wafting through the air not only smells good, but alerts my head to the wondrous things inside.  I like cinnamon cookies in the oven;  old, heavy roses, horses, salt water, lumberyards, a hammer striking a nail, fur on a living animal, drawing paper, gum erasers, blankets and sheets hung on the clothesline, brick and stone, rain, unscented candles burning in a candelabra, bee's wax.   Fallen leaves, dirt, a cut pumpkin, a fresh cotton shirt, those large Christmas tree light bulbs that smell like the tree is going to burst into flames because they get so hot, and clams.

Swirl around yourself tomorrow, and find what smells are reassuring to you, or that bring forward a memory of younger days, like H-O oats cereal which was my favorite, a toasted oatmeal that gave off a nutty, steamy aroma that my Grandma made for me as I sat at her maple table and listened to the fog horn on a chilly morning.  They just tore down the remaining buildings maybe four years ago.  See how it works?  Now, you remember...

Sleep, sleep my dears, you well deserve it and the night has charms of its own.  A crushed sachet of lavender under the pillow?  No?  Perhaps some rose cream over tired hands.  Bergamot, jasmine, sandalwood; these are the best to induce calm, to swaddle you in the cloak of sleep...chamomile, lilac, and ylang ylang, which slows down the nervous system.  Dream of fields, of nights filled with blooms.  Good night.