Grass is the only thing i can think of that smells sweet once it dies.I love the smell of hay :)
You are right, it smells good. Interesting parallel, the time passed and the scythed grass, reminds me of harvest.Welcome to the blog!
How true! The past is no longer there, yet it is so familiar. And rich or poor, we all own it :)
Yes, and it is amazing how important our memories are to us. They are what we stand on, our roots.Proust said that reality takes shape in the memory alone.
I like Proust very much (- it takes a lifetime to read properly and I'm only at the beginning :)).He was so smart and never hateful, or so it seems. According to his quote then, memory is the sculptor of reality, some sort of a colleague of yours ;)
Yep, a helpful colleague! We make quite a team, we sculpt in shifts :)I saw that you are watching Stranger Than Fiction on your profile. I recommend Stay (also directed by Marc Foster), it's one of my all time favorite movies.
Thanks Thinker, I'll try to find it.
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