Ever noticed how they capture moments?
A song brings me right back to rides to the dump, now affectionately termed landfill, with Dad. Yes, I'm listening to Neil Diamond. Dad has always been a music listener and so it was that Dad's trucks had 8 track players during that stint of time. Listened to a lot of music when I'd wait for him in the truck while he jawed with the guys at Carroll Motor Supply. I chuckle at people who are aghast when they see children waiting in vehicles. It was so very commonplace. I suppose like riding a bicycle without a helmet. Now I listen to songs - ones that I used to choose as ringtones for certain people - like Shawn Colvin's I've Never Saw Blue Like That. Well, my phone is now liberated. They're all gone - everyone is now a surprise.
Smell. Working now over half of my life in emergency services, I can say smells can bring you exactly back to full color vision playbacks and the rest is up to your imagination. On a much better note, few things are comforting smells to me: a spicy white carnation, a box of Camel cigarettes, a soothing rose. Mmmm....
I've been enraptured by this velvety blanket I received for Christmas. It feels like the tippy ear ends of the vizsla that I am so fortunate to borrow on occasion. Remember the wear-a- blindfold-walk-on-eggs-atop-crackers game? Please say yes. That better have been something everyone had to feel. The day I crawled into a wrecked car in pitch blackness and sat on a dozen eggs and a box of Saltines - well, ping, I remembered the game.
Cilantro. It tastes like dish soap. Now, now - I never had my mouth washed with dish soap as that was left to bar soap and thankfully not usually Lava. Is it not the most amazing thing - taste? How so very well defined in some compared to others.
As the big brother on the block, sight tends to rule over the others. But, there are many levels to it. Our challenge, should we choose to discipline ourselves, is to look beyond the surface.
Intuition. Like sight, this requires sensitivity, but in addition to constant honing is also discernment. A gift not from within ourselves.
Memories and our current breath entwined and etched....by our senses.