Scentsational

Sitting on the tube today, minding my own business, I was caught unawares as a lady sat down next to me who smelt of Fizzers (for those unfortunate enough not to remember these delights, they were small fizzy sweets from about 15 years ago, made by Swizzels, which looked like a roll of pastel-coloured pills - akin to love hearts. Très retro). I was immediately whisked back to days of musical chairs and party bags filled with parma violets, balloons, balls, and candy necklaces; days of make-believe adventures as cowboys and gold-rushers (oh yes, we dreamt big!)... As I smiled to myself, mind wandering off on a journey through the past, I found myself quite happy to have been spiritually transported to my youth by a mere smell, the simplest of triggers yet with such connotations as to spark numerous flashbacks. It wasn't the first time, and I doubt it will be the last - perfumes hold a memory of a certain person or place, certain food aroma combinations can mentally carry us off to a land once visited, even things as simple as wood-smoke, turpentine, cut grass or fresh linen can evoke a comforting notion of 'home'... 


And this can happen anytime, anywhere. Next time you're popping into the supermarket see if you can't feel the gentle tickle of an Italian breeze when you smell the lemons, or the bustle of a little seaside harbour as you wander past the fish counter, or the groan of a floury workbench where the mouthwatering fresh bread is kneaded. The smell of carrier bags as they are rustled open alludes to the goodies and treats they will soon be filled with. 
Think about your own reactions - inhale deeply and let yourself be spirited away for a moment next time you catch the scent of something that sparks a pleasant memory... Why not?!

These are a few of my favourite things

Forgive me, dear reader, for the latter philosophical interlude. Let me assure you that this little elucidation is a much more trivial morsel: that of new favourites. Be this, as it may, in relation to newfound culinary delights, a recently discovered shortcut, a ‘wow-I-can’t-put-this-down’ novel, a song that although sticks in the mind over and over is surprisingly pleasant therein, a now-adopted personality-defining cocktail, or just a newly learnt word or fact that has to be evinced wherever possible; there is something to be said for the frisson of excitement found when one realises one has developed such a fancy for something as to superlative away and label it ‘the best’. Indeed, it is fresh and invigorating to learn that whilst we can maintain the comfort of our old favourites, we still have room to adapt and take on new likes or dislikes, such as reinventing ourselves to be interested in photography, or taking a sudden shine to the colour purple. I am not insinuating that we should all aim for hipster status, proclaiming new opinions to stand out from the crowd. I just mean to say that it can be a rather good idea to look for new inspiration - seek out new pleasures, frequent new haunts, and by all means cultivate your happiness in whichever tiny things suit. Personally I’ve taken a fancy of late to mangoes, experimenting with spices, trying to voice compliments instead of just thinking them, and making the most of whatever opportunities come my way. I also happen to have a discovered a fondness for sloths.  And further to all this, as a childhood ditty goes, “Make new friends but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold”. It is important that we keep in touch not just with our friends and loved ones but with the essence of ourselves. And it is also important to embrace new potential and develop new friendships. A stranger is a friend in waiting. This may not always be the case, and certainly may not always be a wise mantra to follow (beware of applying this in dark alleyways, for example...) but why not ask someone how they’re doing, and mean it? Why not say hi to an out-of-touch friend? Why not smile at someone who looks a little sad, just to cheer them up? And why not go out and explore the world around you, discover some new favourites for yourself, and make the most of it rather than waiting for that special occasion or rainy day - you only live once... 

Rainy days and Mondays

On particularly drab days, we seem, in general, less inclined to smile. Through the dreary drizzle we ‘trudge’ and ‘mope’ with heads bowed against the rain, in place of ‘strolling’ or ‘meandering’ along sunlit boulevards... Sunglasses swapped for umbrellas, we huddle ourselves away under waterproof layers, and raise our shields to divert the downpour. 

Call me overly British for talking about the weather, but it can be a real game-changer, and there’s a lot to be said for paying attention to pathetic fallacy: the notion of the mood reflecting the weather definitely takes body when the rains come down, as misery levels inevitably do go up. Heed must be taken on these days to not let such a triviality ‘dampen‘ our spirits (if you’ll pardon the pun).  


But if we take a moment, we might see the glistening raindrops chase each other down the window pane; the cherry blossom reflected in the rivery pavement’s mirrored surface; the way bright colours are accentuated as they stand against the backdrop of grey; the beaming smile of a wellied-up child stomping in puddles... If we never pause and appreciate whatever comes our way, we might miss the rich smell of the warm earth after a good soaking, the salty tang of the sea in the breeze, or the patter of nature’s drumbeat as it strikes the paving. For, after all, the sheer magic and majesty of a good thunderstorm or the delight of letting it all go and just dancing in the rain are surely rivals to a the calm enshrouding a balmy evening or the splendour of starlit dusk, are they not?
And yet we forget it all as soon as there is a dampness in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not keen on unsolicited outdoor showering, nor the chilly sensation of moist feet in wintery weather. But the beauty of torrential rain is that sometimes you just have to give in, admit that your shoes are simply beyond drenched, and enjoy that liberating ‘squelching’ feeling that is associated with wet socks, or walking in flip-flops down a flooding road. 

And the best part about it all? When the sun comes out after the rain. The glorious surprise of warm rays placating the earth, transforming monochrome to technicolor, dappling shadows here and there, buds unfurling and stretching their petals in the glow, safe in the knowledge that after the rain, all will be right in the end. And ultimately, that a few drops of rain can be as beautiful and valuable as a nice dose of sun. Enjoy.