Decay, Sweet as Cinnamon

I love the smell of fall leaves. So much so that, although I'm startled by the presence of such a smell, premature as it seems in this heat, I can't resist... I lean down to scoop some of the golden leaves that line the walk to the rec center. I hold them in the palm of my hand, and I breathe in deep, inhaling their scent.

It's a rich smell. Of the earth. Like smells have a tendency to do, it tugs at me inside and pulls me back to a thousand fading memories. They linger.

Mayumi thinks it smells like insects. But she's lived her whole life in the city, she can't understand the appeal of such earthy natural scents. I had a glimpse of that myself in Finland, where they worship smells such as tar and smoke. But at least here we have cedar, and some of us have the smell of leaves.

Jorge thinks it smells like rotting leaves. He's closer to the truth, I suspect. The leaves were green a week ago, after all, and now they're golden, and darkening...

But sometimes the smell of decay is the sweetest smell. He admits that the scent is a bit spicy. Myself, I think they've entombed it in pumpkin pie, mixed with a healthy dose of sugar. Laughing, I loosen my grip and let the pace of the walk, and the wind, pull each leaf from my hand.

Decay. Yes. He had the right of it. It's Autumn, though, and such a scent is nothing if not natural. There's no reason not to embrace it.