Smells are messengers. They travel with the winds, and hence they can bring the news from distances. In the era of computerized models predicting the weather, promises of the rains are now delegated to the machines. But the machines and the predictive models cannot talk to our senses directly. They cannot register a promise of rains, just its probability. It’s, then, left to the scents and the winds to keep on performing their long-standing thankless duty of being the promise bearers.
Not all promises are kept. Not all probabilities are respected. And yet, a missed prediction doesn’t seem as personal a betrayal, as a broken promise of rains. One is left nursing the dry wounds, with a fading backdrop of petrichor carried over from lands, not far away. Maybe we believe in the promises delivered directly to our senses than those delivered to our conscious cognition. Deep down, we’re still creatures of the earth, trusting her smell more than any words and statistics.
#Pune #AprilShowers #Weather #Nature