My wife and I had a rather enjoyable evening recently. We were sitting on our patio star gazing and sharing conversation while overwhelmingly intoxicated. Not by alcohol or some illegal substance. But by the intoxicating fragrance of the jasmine that covers the block retaining wall that keeps the sandstone hill that is the back of our property from crushing our home.
Attractive year round, the jasmine does a good job of softening the bold brawny wall. People often ask what it is when they see it. Green all year long, it is a nice reminder of spring when the winter months strip the surrounding landscape of every scrap of color other than brown. But you haven’t seen our jasmine until you see it with your nose.
Jasmine is the pinup model of our backyard. She’s that bold, brassy bombshell al la Marilyn Monroe or that bodacious blonde you spot walking down the beach. Guys, you know the one you hope your wife doesn’t see you looking at as she strolls by your umbrella. I hate to break it to you, even with the dark shades, they both know you’re looking.
Gardenia is another vision of beauty at which my nose can’t stop staring. Sweet and mellow, she’s the fragrant vision of the movie stars of old. Think Audrey Hepburn. Classic beauty that never fades. I put my wife in that category, by the way.
When I stop to think about it, as I am now, I recall some wonderful things my nose has seen.
You’ve never really seen fried chicken until you’ve seen it through your nose as it’s being prepared. When I did my brief obligatory teenage stint in fast food, I worked at Popeye’s. The slogan then was “Love that chicken from Popeye’s.” I did and still do. But you’ve never seen it until your nose sees the flour as it’s being sifted or the chicken as it’s being fried.
My nose used to watch with particular interest as mom prepped Sunday chicken after church. Often from spring through early fall, we’d take it out to the picnic table. Everyone seemed to have a picnic table when I was a kid. Or we’d take it out on the pontoon boat for a floating feast on Lanier. The picture there was enhanced by the unique smell of outboard motor exhaust. It’s that fragrance of oil smoke and lake water. Put that with the nasal beauty of freshly fried chicken and your nose is looking at a vision as captivating as any Monet or Van Gogh you can name.
Speaking of chicken—which is hard not to do when you live in the poultry capitol of the world—my nose has also had a glimpse of a chicken farm or two. I spent one summer working for an egg farm cleaning chicken houses, setting up brooder houses, and packing eggs. Now whenever my nose spots a chicken house, I recall hot summer days covered in dust and God knows what else. Working for minimum wage and living for the weekend. I sometimes feel I was living in the moment more then than now. As the world’s most awkward farm hand, I also have a great appreciation for what it took for those eggs in my fridge to get there.
Of course, there are times when you need to be careful with nostril vision. Car shopping is one. You can like the looks of that new ride all you want, but that’s not what will get you to sign the dotted line. It’s when you see it with your nose. That new car smell is a seductress who has talked many a man (and woman) into making a long-term commitment with their bank. I sometimes envy car salespeople. They get to immerse themselves in one of the pricier perfumes on Earth: ode de new ride. Personally, I think I look better when seen through its sheen.
A conversation starter that is often asked is if you had to lose one of your five senses, which would it be. A popular answer is the sense of smell. People say this figuring they would still be able to see, hear, touch and taste. Those are all the things we need to function without help from special devices or other people.
Certainly, the loss of any of the big five would not be good. But it would be hard to fully appreciate a freshly mown lawn without the benefit of nostril vision.
Your nose also sees things your eyes can not. Like that gas leak in my boat. By the time my eyes would have seen it, there would have been an explosion attached.
Without nostril vision, how would you know that someone’s baking cookies? Or that your neighbor is grilling burgers? And what would Christmas look like if your nose wasn’t able to see the tree or the gingerbread as it comes out of the oven? Or that your baby needs a diaper change? (Okay, sometimes nostril vision isn’t all that pretty.) And let’s be honest, a bad movie looks better when viewed through the fragrance of popcorn.
The world would look quite different without our sense of smell. It wouldn’t have the same luster.
So, take a deep breath and get a good look your world through your nose.
