The power of scent
8 December 2015
I drifted off to sleep with the warm fire and the soft heady smell of jasmine. I dreamed of temple belles in the mountains, their sounds near but in reality very far away. The air of high altitudes carrying their pure sound and with it the scent of incense drifting into the clear thin air. I dreamed of thick cypress trees and branch laden deodar trees, and brilliant rhododendron blooms..their petals good enough to eat. I breathed the clear air of high mountains, washed clean yet forever tinged by a hint of wood smoke drifting from village fires. I was at the top of the mountain and the ever present clouds parted and I could see for hundreds of miles. The snow mountains were so clear I reached out for them, as if I could transport myself to their glacial eternity. Their celestial presence was a testimony to their ancient roots, the eternal snows, rarely visited and glimpsed only on a day such as this.
I was running home along the steep mountain path – rocky and treacherous but a childhood in the hills ensured I never slipped. I was coming home, anxious to be home but always just aware of the beauty that played around me. It was growing dark and I reached my house. My mother greeted me and tea was on the table. It was warm and my mother had been anxiously waiting – I was home.
When I woke up I felt a sadness for what was lost and at the same time happy that my memories were so clear that simple scents could bring them back to life.
- Posted by jleaphart