I returned to Ghana this morning, ready to (try to) get back to work. One of the things that I was fascinated by on my visit was the smells. Fall in New England has such distinctive smells. The crisp bitterness along the Charles. The damp pine forest behind my mother's house. The rotting leaves at the base of Mt Lafayette. The cold, slick smells above treeline. Etc.
Getting off the plane in Ghana, I had forgotten that the tropics have their own distinct smell. Maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the humidity, but it's there. I was surprised how familiar it smelled -- it smelled like home.
The romance faded when I walked to work, and got a good whiff of open sewer. Ah, the smells of Accra!
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Yes...the smells of New England in the Fall. The raking begins...Pumpkins beam out carved faces along the street. And anticipation of Halloween (aka Ryan's birthday). All the senses are alive.
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