After a quick visit back to Maine this month, I felt the seasonal transition through the sights and smells along my morning run. It was cold: 30 degrees feels bitter cold when you arrive from Austin, Texas where the morning temperatures plummet to 50 degrees. The cold air seeped through my two layers of winter gloves.
My shoes crunched along bright orange and red leaves cast into my footpath by the recent storm. The trees overhead burst into golden blaze when the warm sun reflected through the branches.
Enhancing these seasonal impressions were the smells that infused my path. Dried pine needles sent out their smell, which seemed honey-like as their scent grew as the morning sun settled and cast its light on the path.
All these sensations connect to the language of our senses, in particular this language of smell.
I wrote about this new journey through my senses in this month’s Substack newsletter (out tomorrow), and also shared about the way others use their senses to impart their art into the world.
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