It's a part of me that doesn't rank high on the appreciation meter, unless I'm walking into a kitchen with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air.
And even then, the sense of taste steals the show, because the smell of the bread is only the prequel to the amazing experience of eating the bread. I knew last night, as strong as I can know things, that I needed to post my gratitude for this neglected and OH! so vital of the senses as one of my counted blessings.
I climbed into my bed and smiled. Not only because I was IN bed [at last--huzzah!], but also because the bedding had been flapping on the clothesline for the better part of the afternoon, and it had that amazing smell that only line-dried linens can have. I pulled the covers right up to my nose and breathed deeply.
I am grateful for the ability to smell. (And for my clothesline)