Smell is the most overrated sense.
I鈥檓 probably tempting fate to remove my nose in some ironic twist of fortune, but I have to be honest.聽
Think of all the great sights you鈥檝e beheld, the glorious music you鈥檝e heard, the magnificent food you鈥檝e tasted, and the delightful objects you鈥檝e touched.聽
Now think about all the rancid odours that have filtered through your nostrils. Putrid, right?聽
Worst of all, you can鈥檛 help what you smell most of the time. You can close your eyes and cover your ears, but your nose? Sure, you can plug it or breathe through your mouth, but that only lasts for so long. Eventually you need better air circulation and that鈥檚 when the smells rush to greet you.
I know, I know, I鈥檓 not being fair to the nose. For all the bad smells you meet, you encounter even more wonderful ones. And smell can be one of the strongest triggers of fond (or not so fond) memories. The sense of smell can be quite spectacular sometimes.
But I begrudge the nose because it has been tormenting me for the last four months. It has plagued me with a mystery that drove me up the wall.
Back home, I was used to a variety of odd smells. In Halifax, the salt air mixes with fish and seagulls to create a truly bracing odor. And there are probably dozens of scents I was accustomed to that would drive newcomers utterly batty.
Whenever you move somewhere new, you have to get comfortable with an unfamiliar slate of smells. Usually you can adjust to them and move on with your life. In Saskatchewan, that鈥檚 true for me, except for one specific scent.
I was spending my first night in my new apartment. I went outside to toss a garbage bag in the dumpster. I was heading back inside when I first sniffed it: The Smell.
Even now, I can鈥檛 quite describe it. Pungent might be the best word. It鈥檚 overwhelming and all-encompassing, like a thick blanket. You can practically taste it.
The Smell reminds me of an old breakfast, like an odd strain of oatmeal. It takes me back to eating breakfast before catching the bus to school. I can鈥檛 say I enjoy its odor.
I kept finding the Smell all around Yorkton. I鈥檇 sniff it in parking lots, highways, parks, downtown, and everywhere else. I was being stalked by a scent.
Sometimes, I鈥檇 go weeks without encountering the Smell. But, just like that, it鈥檇 come back with a vengeance. Worst of all, I鈥檇 always smell it when no one else was around. I couldn鈥檛 describe it, so I didn鈥檛 mention it to any locals. I started to think it was a nasal figment of my imagination.
But the truth will out. The other day I was driving to Ebenezer with a carload of people. When we hit the highway, like clockwork, the Smell found me.聽
鈥淲hat is that?鈥� I asked.
鈥淐anola,鈥� my passenger replied.
The mystery was solved and it was a tad anticlimatic. All my months of madness and the root cause was the oil I use to fry veggies.聽
Hopefully my next nose conundrum will involve a more pleasant smell.
