As the rain began, we chose to keep paddling. We were on the far side of the reservoir, so it would be at least another hour until we could make it back to the Leffert’s side of the reservoir anyway. The rain continued, leaving little pockmarks on the water and reminding us that maybe next time, we should check the weather report before heading out onto the water. It was getting darker fast, and the pinks and purples of sunset lasted about 10 minutes before we were submerged in darkness. Not enough darkness that we needed to turn our headlamps on, but enough that we had to really focus on finding the launch site in the shadows.
When the rain began, we were in the back cove, where you can often head off into a narrow passageway. It has gotten boggier over the past decade, but when the water is deep enough…but that wasn’t the point this time. The rain had opened up the world. Instead of making us feel rushed or hurried, the forest instead embraced us with its aroma.
The opening up of the canopy and the falling of the leaves onto the ground expose the forest floor to the sky. Stick seasons don’t just mean a changing of the views, as we can now see through to what has always been behind the trees. With the rain now reaching the forest floor, it is able to soak into the ground and wet the leaves below.
A musty smell rose from the shoreline, almost embracing us in its power. The strength of the scent engulfed us. It was surely one of the few times it had rained over the past few weeks, and it was staggering. This smell, trapped beneath the thick canopy all summer long, was now free of its covering and allowed to be released. It was awesome except for the whole overwhelming part.
It reminded me of a hike I took with a young friend. Our pre-kindergarten at KES has Forest Fridays, where the teachers take the kids outside, and they get to explore nature. It’s a good Vermont-y type of schooling. Learn what is around you, learn to celebrate it, and keep it close to your heart. It makes me proud.
And so my young friend had to teach me what they had just learned that past week: smelling the forest. It was, without a doubt, the longest, shortest hike I have ever been on. We had to smell everything. And by smelling, I mean putting our noses as close to things as we could and inhaling the very essence of that thing. From trees to piles of leaves to mud to rotting plants, we smelled everything that day.
In an era where photographs and video are everything, we often forget that we even have other senses. When we see these images of faraway lands, we cannot smell them. We don’t know if the air is clean, dingy, musty, or fresh. We don’t even let the aroma of the image come anywhere near us. How often have you watched a cooking video online and never once smelled the onion?
So here nature was, punching us in the face with her smells. And we were blown away. We stopped paddling for a moment and let the smells whirl around us on the breeze. As the light faded and our vision reduced, we used the smells to determine how far away we were from shore. We let our noses guide us home. It was a rare feat but one we were excitedly able to accomplish.
Since then, I have been trying to smell more. To use more nose more. I’m definitely not very good at it. I can tell when the air is crisp and clean and winter versus the heavy, thick, moist air of the height of summer. But I’m not very good at sniffing out the one moldy item in the barn. The BF found it right away. I realize I need to do some olfactory training, where I take four different scents (rose, lemon, cloves, and eucalyptus) and smell them for 10-20 seconds, 1-2 times a day. These rituals are supposed to help retrain your sense of smell and strengthen your ability to determine different scents. And if you do this after exercising, it’s even more powerful, as your sense of smell is heightened at that time.
I cannot wait to notice the smell at the bottom of the gondola and then breathe in the cool air at the summit of Killington. I need to see the difference in the thickness of the air and the complete and utter change of environment that the snowmakers have built for us at the top of the mountain. See you all for opening day!
Merisa is a long-time Killington Resident, Global Real Estate Advisor, and Coach PomPom. She can be reached at Merisa.Sherman@SothebysRealty.com
