I'm not sure I ever stepped out the door of my apartment in Manhattan and took a long, deep inhale of fragrant air. I don't think that would have been a good idea. What I remember from New York is exhaust, rotting garbage, urine and b.o.
Raleigh Hills is a little different. Every morning when I leave the apartment, I'm struck by these amazing scents in my neighborhood, and I pause to enjoy them. I'm noticing that they change with the seasons: the trees smelled different in summer than they do now.
With fall in full swing, there is a musty, slightly sweet smell of decaying leaves, and in the crisp, cold mornings, it's mixed with wood smoke from the nearby houses with fireplaces.
Other smells I notice regularly are freshly mowed lawns, and the trees by the creek at the end of the block. I'm not sure what they are; their powerful fragrance reminds me of Colorado aspens, but I think these are something else. When it rains here, there is the hearty aroma of earth, not the weird stink of wet concrete.
Sigh.
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After I moved to California, on my first trip back to Oregon I stood outside our hotel and just breathed in.
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