Take some time to smell the roses.

A lot can be missed when you have forgotten how to walk. Not just the motions of one step in front of the other but the act of moving forward in the world around you, Of  looking and actually seeing everything and appreciating everything as it is. I have driven down this road many times but today I was forced to walk instead. There were things I never noticed before and things I have forgotten. I forgot the feel of the sun beating down on the back of my neck like a warm cup of coffee resting between my palms, the breeze cooling my face and rustling the leaves above as if they had a secret to tell. My arms swinging to my sides softly reach up and caress the tips of green. I stop at the sight of a rose bush. The pink so vivid, even the sunset could only dare to compete with it’s bright fuchsia against the deep green of its stem. I bring up to my face, not thinking of the embarrassment of getting caught doing so. The fragrance fills my senses with old memories, a thing that cheap perfumes attempt to achieve. The petels pinched between my rough finger tips feel like freshly cleaned cotton sheets. I leave, continuing down my path and saying goodbye like I would to an old friend. Cars squeal past me with music blasting while my own ears stretch and yern to hear the slightest movement of wind against the grass. The scent of the air as I breathe deep is crisp and mild. I pass an old building that I had yet to see on my many drives.  Abandoned yet beautiful in it’s own world with the dust covered shelves inside that you can barley see through the dirt covered windows. I pass a restaurant and the air changes to the smell of garlic and citrus. People chatting noisily intrigues me.  What stories do these people have to tell? What things could I learn from them. The possibilities of countless interactions and experiences that one person could hold excited me. Those people who chose to enjoy their meal and company outside probably appreciated the beauty of this one street as much as I was right now. Even the man made sculpture in front had me taken back as I imagined how difficult it must have been to make and thinking how one human could think of that all by themselves. Lavender grew against the cool grey of the fence and my eyes became warm and soft as the colors shone through and helped each other become even more beautiful. Still I kept walking, the ache in my muscles telling me that my body was done because of the long night before but my brain was far from ready to stop absorbing everything. I walked on ward to my new apartment three houses down. The cold of metal was welcomed and I opened the door and took a deep breath of the already familiar scent. I was home.