“The smell of a place you love”
I love the smell of rain, don’t you?
It’s impossible to put it to words, really, what it smells like. And, really, it may be different to each and every person.
The scent gets lost in the city, I think, as if it is captured by all the concrete buildings and vents before it can reach your nose.
When it rains in the home I grew up in, in the Argentine Pampas, you can smell it.
On a hot summer afternoon that sets free a quick but thunderous shower, or on a dark night suddenly lit up by a clash of lightning, the scent is everywhere.
It’s the smell of calm and rapture enveloped into one. It depicts tones of earthiness saturated with moisture. The air, charged with electricity. And the grass, brilliant in the aftermath, outpours a fresh, clean odour that makes you feel at home and part of it all.