Wine cannot be known by its smell is unreliable.
Love have a shared smell: the smell of longing for something else;
a smell that remembers another smell...
a panting, nostalgic smell that guides you,
like a worn tourist map, to the smell of the original place.
A smell is a memory, takes you into the realms of what is lost.
¡¡¡Muy buena foto!!!
ReplyDeleteMagnifica edición.
Saludos, Ángel
Sorry, Sophie, but I don't agree with your first line. I think either the wine bouquet or the wine aroma tell us a lot about the wine quality, but I can understand your choice of words. Very beautiful thoughts...
ReplyDeleteRight, Sophie forced the meaning of the first line to highlight what come next...
DeleteHello Sophie.... wonderful photo !
ReplyDeleteCheers :)
Greetings from Germany
Nice capture. I remembered a novel of À la recherche du temps perdu. The taste would make us to remember the old memories too. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI'm still lost in the reading of la recherche... I'm Charles Swann, I'm Odette, I'm Albertine, I'm Charlus. I'm Marcel :)
DeleteA Beautiful BLOG with Beautiful clicks and lines!!GOD<3U :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful thoughts!
ReplyDeletehave you gone to that original place with the wine I offered?
ReplyDeleteYou never told me.