Lone Maple Tree, surrounded by decaying leaves and barren trees, reminded me there is always beauty to be found.
I am the type to feel everything.
Notice everything.
And smell everything.
Nowhere do you notice the variety of scents and odors more than when you are on a bike ride.
Today, I woke up to the sun and 68 degrees.
The perfect weather combination for a late-fall bike ride.
So I ate my high-protein breakfast, did a few light chores to allow for proper digestion, pulled out my bike from the garage, whose company I have so deeply missed the past several weeks, pumped up the tires, and was off.
The cool breeze hitting my face.
Older legs adjusting to this sudden burst of movement.
Heart starting to pump just a little harder.
The familiarity of my hands gripping the handlebar; I shifted down a couple of gears.
The fall foliage catching my eye.
It was all such a multi-sensory gift that I was completely caught off guard by the sudden PUTRID smell of ginkgo tree fruit.
They literally smell like the mess you pick up when you take your dog for a walk.
Like, literally.
😝
Continuing on, I was then hit with the smell of mildew coming from an older home. Might want to take care of that, I thought.
Shortly after that, my nose was hit with the odor of someone cooking with onions.
Then there was the pile of leaves I was parked by to take the picture above.
My gawd, I thought, wrinkling my nose, glancing back at that pile, what is IN there?
Scowling, I took off, hoping for some better scents to come my way.
Riding through piles of wet leaves, my nose continued to be assaulted with the combination of must and mold.
Then I came upon a row of cedar trees.
And stopped.
The smell of cedar is so lovely.
So homey.
Visions of Christmas entered my mind and quickly left as I headed out towards the cow fields, then decided to make a quick exit as I was not in the mood to smell more of a ginkgo-like scent.
And I was glad I did.
For I came upon a home undergoing some remodeling. A new fence was going up, leaving behind that wonderful, rich smell of fresh wood.
REAL. WOOD.
An unusual sight in today's world.
I'm the type who will walk over.
Inhale that fresh scent.
Run my hands along the smoothness.
For this was REAL WOOD. Not that cheap concoction of ground-up wood and glue.
So I parked my bike, walked over to the pile in the driveway, bent over, and inhaled.
Ran my hand over the top piece.
Like a junkie looking for something pure and real in today's world of fake and plastic.
After that little moment, feeling a sense of hope for the future, I hopped back on my bike and headed home. More scents of dinner cooking. Another round of gingko followed by more cedar scents was enough for one jaunt about the neighborhood.
As I pulled in the driveway, I overheard a conversation taking place with workers at our neighbor's home. They had put in new pipes this week, removing old copper and replacing them with plastic. As such, grounding rods had to be put in place.
Sigh.
Plastic.
Why?
I miss the days of copper pipes.
Crystal doorknobs.
Real silver utensils.
Homes built to last. Real wood. Brick. Built during the dry season.
Something got lost.
Reliability and value were replaced with cheap, quick, and easy.
And that stinks.
Just like the ginkgo tree fruit, this modern way stinks.
I pray for a return of what was once good about life.
Where the streets were not just filled with piles of leaves, but kids on bikes (the non-electric kind).
Where you could ride by a home with an open kitchen window, an apple pie sitting on the counter, its sweet vanilla flavor comforting your senses.
A time that is lost to my eyes, but still alive in my Heart.
💖
Victoria
Welcome! I'm Victoria, Mama, writer, pianist, and storyteller.
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