There’s a lingering scent of smoke in my nose. I can’t quite tell if that scent is leftover from having driven within 15 miles of the Moorpark Fires, or whether that scent is just as present and strong in Camarillo.
Douglas Adams has an essay in Last Chance to See, his foray into environmental writing, about Rhinos. I think it’s Rhinos, anyway. He describes their powerful olfactory senses, and that their sense of smell allows them to “time travel” because of the way scent propagates, they might be smelling something that passed near many minutes ago. Their perception, then, is not in sync with time, so their conception of the world around them, being largely blind, is based on this older information.
I can’t possibly do it justice, but smoke in my nose makes me remember that essay and how much I liked it.