Whiff.

Staring out of the window into the inky blackness, hearing the heavens empty themselves and i am struck by the scent of the earth. Strangely musky and laced with the heat rising from the ground. I find it fairly fascinating how every event has an echo of a memory croutching somewhere in the shadows. Its an integral part of who we are. Its what makes us unique and still the same. Memories that bind us but also keep us apart. Standing before this window in time, watching the tendrils of smoke chase each other into oblivion, a vision comes rising from the labyrinth's of my mind. Of a night not dissimilar from this one, the rain pounding the roof above but a very different pounding in my ears. Fire light and the rhythm that man has danced to since time began. Dark brown eyes with specks of gold when impassioned. The vision evaporates leaving me staring into the rain and pondering how a whiff of earth could lead to that. A similar link I imagine that has the warmth of a muggy afternoon wash over me and the essence of a particular intoxication take over every time I hear the strains of anything from Ten. I seem to be rather enjoying these intangible threads connecting seemingly random thoughts.