I just came back from what I think might be my last snow-free walk of the year. Yeah, it was raining the entire
time, but I didn’t mind at all. I was warm inside my fleece and rain jacket, and the air was just brilliant. Fresh and deeply fragrant with the smell of wet earth, something I miss terribly in the dead of winter. It’s this smell, or absence of it, which often necessitates a visit to the Muttart in January, or failing that, a face-first into one of my potted plants. Winter is scentless, although I occasionally smell wieners when there is an inversion. Today, however, this fourth and last day of my long weekend, was a treat, albeit a soggy treat, for the senses. Could’ve used a hat, though.