It Smells Like Florida
It smells like Florida—this was the thought that crossed my mind yesterday afternoon while I was sitting on a patio on Main Street in Wolfville. It was 25º and sunny. And the town was bustling with people here for the graduation ceremonies at Acadia University. It’s the sweet smell of summer on the horizon. A smell that you almost forget—one you haven’t experienced it in eight months—since the last hot day in September. It’s hard to describe, but it’s marvellous.
Later in the evening we went to Walmart for what I like to call ‘recreational grocery shopping’, or wandering around the grocery store with no purpose other than to browse and find something new to try. As we walked out of the store into the parking lot, the sun was setting in the distance, and the parking lot lights had come on. It was giving that universal ‘suburban parking lot sunset’ liminal-space-thing that everyone has experienced. As we walked toward our car, Michael piped up “It smells like Florida”.
What a fun coincidence that I had just been thinking the exact same thing to myself earlier in the day. Some farmers must have just spread manure on their fields though, as there was also a strong note of summer twang on top of the Florida-like-aroma. I agreed “Yes, it does smell like Florida—with a hint of cow shit.”
