On my way home from work yesterday I popped into my favourite pub, the Railway Bell for a pint. On leaving I was struck by the dramatic change in my environment. While in the pub I had, at a subconscious level been aware of the many voices mingled together to make a continuous stream of sound. However, on closing the double doors I entered a world of comparative silence, the only sounds to be heard being the singing of  the birds mingled with the noise of the passing cars. One world of noise disappeared as though by magic and was replaced by one of comparrative peace.

As I walked home, from the pub I reflected on the significance of sounds and scents to me as a blind person. Scents are so evocative. Whenever I smell the scent of fresh creosalt on fences I am transported back to my childhood in Liverpool. I recall walking with my grandfather and the scent of creosalt as we walked past the newly creosalted fences surrounding the gardens in Speke, a suburb of Liverpool.

The smell of new mown grass always brings back childhood memories of pleasant strolls with my grandfather. Who needs drugs when we have the scent of newly cut grass to give us a natural high?!



About kevinmorris101

I live and work in London and blog as a hobby. If you would like to contact me please send an email to animalia at shiftmail.com (the address is rendered in this manner in order to try and defeat spammers)!
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