The smell of: Cotton candy at a fairground A barbecue Fresh-cut grass Rain Honeysuckle—hell, the smell of springtime! Certain new books, but some have a rancid smell Not smell anymore, but that feeling when early winter is coming on and you feel the new chill in the air.
Summer weather, when it's 80-100 degrees and the air is bone dry and the sun is like liquid gold. There's a brilliance in the leaves and grass when the summer sun is shining on them. And the California poppies, and the scent of sun-roasted pine-needles, and the cloudless sky, and heat coming up from the highway. There's a rest stop east of Ellensburg on I-90 where in the summer all the cold in your body leaves you as you stand on the asphalt and look out at the hills with sagebrush and sand and transmission towers on them, and Mt. Rainier there in the distance. It's the least romantic place in the world but I love it for some reason. Powdered soap is another one. It makes me so happy to find powdered soap in a restroom. It doesn't happen too often, unfortunately, but I will go out of my way to use those restrooms.
Roasting cotton seeds? Tyres? Trains? Damn, mine isn't going to fit. Honestly? Escapism. I don't mean just in terms of reading or films or art since that'd count as explicable. It's the little flashes I get in my head of a different world (see my signature) which come out of nowhere. I'm somewhat obsessed with this idea. It drives me. Having grown up almost literally in games like World of Warcraft (2006-2017, started playing at 13), I live half in another world, it feels. If it means anything to anyone, I'll sometimes just daydream or get flashes of imagining myself wandering through Stormwind or some other location made real. More generally it's just this feeling of deep inspiration I get and which lasts a seemingly infinitesimal amount of time. I can't explain it. I'll just be doing something mundane and some streak of the fantastic will rise up within me or appear across my eyes and I'll almost tear up. It's almost like being privy to another world. That's probably why I write about thresholds, gateways and the imagination in almost all of my stories... I admit this is bound up in a kind of idealism. It's like the ultimate sigh for days that never were and never could be. One flash and it's gone. Out from the mystic grove full of dryads and sagely thinkers back to this desecrated ball of earth in which almost nothing is as it should be. Edit: By the way, I noticed a lot of people are giving explainable examples. Inexplicable means, of course, that you're unable to comprehend the logic behind something. I suppose my example doesn't even count as inexplicable.
Going for a walk and the the animals dont run from you just got in from a walk and a chipmunk sat on the bike trail. I walked right past it and it didnt even move. I thought it was dead and walked back over to it. Nope! It was eating a nut, but somehow felt comfortable enough to let me approach it without feeling threatened
When I see a city crow with a cracker or a french fry or some other snack food in its beak. Crows and blackbirds make me happy in general. Especially when they hop. I once saw a squirrel running along with a little tin of Planter's Peanuts in its mouth (it may have been cashews) and that made my week. I wish I could have gotten a picture of it. I couldn't believe it. I like to think it was full.
Good one. I like hitting a note and waiting for the tubes to warm up, so there's silence for a moment and then the sound comes in, the note already decaying into harmonics and feedback.
Garage band in high school was essentially that. Cold concrete box in winter, which was fine because we weren't playing much beyond power chords. And everything in dropped D so you only needed one functional finger. Once that got cold you'd just switch to the next one.
Cheerleader car washes in the summer, and the sound of a high school marching band, especially the drum line, in the early fall.
On a similar note, I was thrilled to discover that my new house is close enough to the local high school football stadium to hear the crowd and PA announcer from my bedroom balcony. I'm guessing they decided to start their season in spring after missing last year due to Covid. While I was out with my surgery it became a regular thing for me to hang out on the balcony on Fridays and just listen to them. Of course, neither team seemed to be very good offensively because all I heard from the PA was 1st and 10, 2nd and 13, 3rd and 13, 4th and 8, punt. Over and over again. Oh, well. Kids are probably rusty after not getting to play for however long.
I love a perfect summer evening as the sky turns a deep glowing blue and you can hear the crickets and locusts and the fireflies are doing their thing. Did you ever notice when they light they're always looping (is it upwards, or downwards? I forget.) They constantly fly in little looping spirals. And it's only the (males, or females?) who have a light. Must be their version of peacock tail feathers or massive antlers that make it seemingly impossible for stags to run through the woods, and yet they do with impossible grace and speed. And that makes me extremely happy too, especially when I'm lucky enough to see it. Oh, and when the owls start their screech-hooting. Especially in mating season (which seems to be spring and fall), when it gets incredibly intense and actually toward the end sounds like monkeys fighting viciously.
Wow, I never knew what kind of owls we have around here, but this sounds exactly like them. Barred owls, huh? Cool. Listen to the end (or skip to about 1:40) for the crazy monkey stuff. Apparently it's called caterwauling. I guess that's when they're really horny.
When I decide to make a brew and remember I bought a new brand/type of coffee to try. Fridays. Delivery day for my latest amazon order.
Oh, this one really is inexplicable, except to say it taps into my poetic tendencies, but the sound of a distant propeller plane on a hot summer’s day.
- Sitting down at night with a cup of warm tea, a few cookies to dip, and a show (#1 pick right now is Marple). -The smell of rosemary frying in oil. It's warm and spicy. The memories it dredges up are stuck somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas -Eating outside at a nice restaurant while it rains. -Finishing a book quicker than its estimated time
Running cadences. It's not that I liked running much at all, and I certainly hated most any motivational anything, but man, for some unknown reason I loved belting out those cadences with the platoon or squadron. Particularly when I was leading cadence. A couple of examples of fun ones, though it's a little hard to feel the rhythm from lyrics alone. Mind you, each line is called by the leader first and then the squadron/platoon repeats. If I Die In A Combat Zone If I die in a combat zone Box me up and ship me home Issue my rifle to another Marine, It served me well and I know it’s clean Put me in a set of Dress Blues, Comb my hair and shine my shoes. Pin my medals upon my chest Tell my mamma I did my best When I get to heaven, St. Peter he will say “How did you earn your living, how did you earn your pay?” I reply with a little bit of thunder, Made my livin’ killing down under When I go home, the pro-testers they will say “How did you earn your livin’, how did you earn your pay?”, I reply as I take out my knife, “Get outa my way before I take your life…” If I die in a combat zone, Box me up and ship me home. Pin my medals upon my chest. Tell my mamma I did my best. Mothers of America, don’t you cry. The Marine Corps motto is “Do or die.” With my K-Bar in my hand, Fighting my way to the Promised Land. Red dog leader, this is red dog one. Send me on another one. Just One Day I can run to Haiti like this All the way to Haiti like this And when I get Haiti the Haitians gonna say How’d you get to Haiti in just one day And I’ll reply with a whole lot of anger Blood and guts and a little bit of danger HOYEAH Motivated Dedicated I can run to Bosnia like this all the way to Bosnia like this when i get to Bosnia the Serbs are gonna say how’d you get to Bosnia in just one day and I’ll reply with a whole lot of anger Blood and guts and a little bit of danger HOYEAH Motivated Dedicated HOYEAH That’s me That’s you I can run to Somalia like this all the way to Somalia like this when I get to Somalia they’re gonna say how’d you get to Somalia in just one day and I’ll reply with a whole lot of anger Blood and guts and a little bit of danger HOYEAH Haiti Everyday Everyway HOYEAH I can run to Iraq like this all the way to Baghdad like this and when I get to Iraq Saddam’s gonna say how’d you get to Iraq in just one day and I’ll reply with a whole lot of anger Blood and guts and a little bit of danger HOYEAH That’s for me Usually we didn't remember the whole thing, but we'd get as far as we could and cycle out for new leaders. Runs became real easy when you were singing these, even though they made it so much harder to breathe.
