PETRICHOR- And a Whirled of Other Smells- Bye Godfrey

When he set out a roving Godfrey felt, it important to “see all about me and to smell every smelt” Godfrey’s earliest memories included his dad’s scorched morning porridge..mud flats at low tide, sister Alice dangles him over the sea bridge. The wet stone floor of the village dairy, cold and sour and sweet. Sent he was by his Grandma to fetch a pint of cream, to pour over hot ginger-bread as a treat.

There was the scent of coal smoke. The vinegar tang as he licked the salty wrapper of his greasy fish and chips. Ancient Aunts that smelled of cats, that he only saw at funerals and summer city car trips. As he grew older he oft enjoyed lying face down in clean laundry, (to Ma’s dismay) When it had been out on the line in the spring air. He loved the smell of apples, Haggis, and warm horse hair.

..His travels smelled of Eucalyptus, baked beans, and coconut lotion rubbed on sun burnt skin. Frying eggs and onions wafted strong from burger-bars, every small town Godfrey stayed in.

There were the times he could smell beets, somewhere nearby that made his nostrils twitch, and on occasion would be something nasty, in public Loo or roadside ditch.

“I wanted to smell the smells and feel the feels” Hot tar sticky neath my bicycle wheels, Hay field, headwind, remote track, rain in the face and sweat down my back. At the end of the day a fine world of smells for me, carrot cake, raisin toast, Earl Grey Tea!

Thank you from Godfrey.

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