Odor
I'm one of those people who is very sensitive to odor. More powerful than music, or even a photograph, the smell of freshly cut grass, honeysuckles, and especially perfume, can bring back heightened moments of spiritual clarity, happiness, or gut-wrenching emotion. For example, hazelnut coffee makes me think of composer Steve Reich, and the day I "got it." Garlic cloves remind me of the day I found out my then-girlfriend was cheating on me. [My roommate had just returned from the store with a huge bag of fresh garlic, which lingered for weeks].
So whenever I watch the television news and see reporters wearing breathing filters and carrying microphones at "Ground Zero" in New York, I try to imagine what it must smell like there. Every reporter states that television simply cannot convey the magnitude of the catastrophe, and I assume they must be talking about all the senses, not just the visuals.
But few reporters, possibly out of respect for those with loved ones in the rubble, have mentioned anything what it smells like. Think about it -- we're talking about mountains of burning steel, paper, computer monitors, and yes, thousands of decomposing bodies, trapped in the concrete canyons of lower Manhattan. If you've walked around that area, you know how the heat and wind gets funneled through those alleys. It's a pressure cooker, and the stench must be awful.
Today the New York Times published the article,
"20 Days Later, an Invisible Reminder Lingers" which pretty well captures the moment. One thing is for sure though
