Tulips at Sunset, by Ron ter BurgThe Velvet Hum of Earth
The smell of damp soil after a long day of heat is a heavy, sweet perfume that clings to the back of the throat. It is the scent of things waking up, of roots stretching through cool, dark pockets of earth. When I press my palms into the ground,…
The Weight of the Cup
The smell of scorched maize and boiling water always pulls me back to a kitchen I haven't visited in decades. It is a thick, humid scent that clings to the back of the throat, promising a warmth that starts in the belly and radiates outward…
The Breath of High Places
The air at that altitude tastes of crushed pine needles and a cold, metallic sharpness that stings the back of the throat. It is a thin, hungry air that demands you slow your pulse to match the rhythm of the earth. I remember the sensation…