Simple Pleasure 01

I was walking down the street, less than a block away when I saw it. The top of a garbage truck swept the withering flowers that dangle from the neighbourhood’s Jacaranda trees.

In one swooping motion, a clean trim off the grove of them that line the sidewalk.

An elegant maneuver, by a classically dirty object.

The coincidence here though, is that when a Jacaranda’s flowers have run their course, they no longer give off a sweet, earthy aroma. Its decomposing flowers exude a foul and pungent odour much like that of… garbage.

Nature’s trash. Falling down, like a tide rolling forward.

A clean, purple ribbon of stinky petals, gracefully collected to furl and rot.

For a brief moment I wished that I was a garbage man, hanging off the side of the truck, rained on by a swarm of florets, even if I did need to shower after.

I arrive at the trees. The truck’s a little ways away. There’s a stench. I don’t know what it is.

Is it… or is it…

I close my eyes and plug my ears to focus my sense of smell. I take a whiff.

I couldn’t tell you the difference.