What a Long Strange Trip...

I miss the smell of the city.  It’s not that I don’t miss other things, but the smell is something that just sticks in my mind. Especially this time of year. Magnolia blossoms and early spring barbecues mixing with the thick, muddy smell of the riverbank after a rainy afternoon.  Late afternoon breezes blow away the smells of the city only to replaced by the perfume of night-blooming jasmine and the sweet mix of equal parts alcohol and sweat as the sounds of jazz and hip-hop and rock and roll steadily blend together.  And you walk to the banks of the Mississippi to drink in the breeze and the smell of history that lazily floats on whispered breath down the crescent and out of sight.