Known Unknowns by Robin Chapman
Garden, I call it, our beautiful volunteers — faces of phlox,
waving arms of goldenrod, monarda’s tight fists —
still here after the hottest, driest two months on record,
all their lower leaves withered, sere, height lowered,
many young ones dead; and now at last the rain,
perfume rising up of soil, leaf, flower — if gratitude
had a scent, my skin itself would join in calling the bees.
And who is to say that this is not the scent of gratitude?
That exchange that might bring rain back again.
Mary shared this poem the other day and I was completely awestruck by the phrase scent of gratitude. And I couldn’t help but contemplate, what is the scent of gratitude to me? We’ve blogged before about favorite scents but the scent of gratitude feels more meaningful than liking the smell of roast chicken. It’s feel more elusive and way more powerful. So, today, for three on Thursday, I’m going to share 3 times I have experienced the scent of gratitude this week.
- The first time was actually early Tuesday morning. I rolled over in bed and pulled the covers up tighter around my neck and snuggled up to Dale’s back. And I took in this deep breath and all I could smell was that unique scent that is my husband. Not cologne or shampoo or anything manufactured but just the scent of him. A little bit of soap and a little bit of sweat and a lot of the outdoors. It’s a heady combination to me and I swear I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s the scent of gratitude in that it smells like home and love and safety and everything that is good in my world.
- The second time was Tuesday afternoon. I was in the kitchen getting dinner ready and Dale started a fire in the wood stove. I could smell the smoke as the wood caught and I thought – there it is again. I catch that faint whiff of smoke and hear the snap of the kindling and I feel gratitude. It means warmth and coziness and quiet winter nights, it means connecting to ancient customs and memories and it is good.
- The third time was Tuesday evening. The kids were over for dinner and I was holding Jack and I breathed in the top of his head. You know that newborn baby head smell, right? Talk about the scent of gratitude! It’s full of youth and promise, of dreams that have come true and dreams that haven’t even been conceived of yet. It’s a connection to the past and an expectation that our family will continue for generations to come.
Have you ever thought about the scent of gratitude? I’d love to hear your ideas on this, leave me a comment and tell me what you think of when you consider the scent of gratitude.
Please include a link to your post today if you wrote one!