A gentle and sweet soul sent me roses a few weeks ago. They were a beautiful and sensuous crimson. Their petals curved as naturally as the body of most of us women. But there was something missing. That thing that made a rose a rose was curiously absent. It was the smell–the luxuriously gentle smell that filled the air. There was no scent that gave a rose its final air of beauty. As a matter of fact, it was only a hint away from smelling like aged manure–there, but not quite there. The rose was not really a rose anymore.
This disturbed me. I thought, maybe I had a bad batch of roses. So, while passing through a supermarket some days later, I sniffed a rose that sat off in a corner amongst buckets of other flowers, all seeming to be lonely from no one wanting to take them home. Once again, no scent.
So today, on the eve of a day I do not hold so dear–because my loved ones celebrate me daily, leaving me with no need for a day to remind them of their love for me–I passed a flower store. I thought, how convenient. Surely a florist would have the best flowers available on such a day as today…the eve of St. Valentine’s Day.
I went inside and was surprised to discover how lightly scented the entire store was–not lightly scented with the scent of roses, however. I walked around, smelling the red roses and the yellow roses. Nothing. Exasperated, I asked the clerk if she had any pink roses. Surely pink roses would have a strong scent. To my dismay, there was still nothing. My nose shriveled with disappointment.
I said to the clerk, “There is no smell.”
“It’s probably because it is just coming out of the refrigerator.”
“All of them?” I replied. “Even these not in the fridge?”
She gave a nervous laugh. “Well, actually, there is a reason why they probably have no smell.”
“Genetically modified,” I cut in.
“Yes,” she agreed with an added nervous smile.
“Then what’s the point if they have no smell?” I asked rhetorically and left the store.
I knew the reason all along. But I wanted to deny it. I wanted to believe that no one on earth would bastardize nature in this way. In two more generations, my great grandchildren won’t know that roses had a smell. It will be a tale told in books, something they may never experience if this madness continues.
Where are the real roses? Where have they gone? Will this become the world Orwell spoke of in 1984. Will there come a time, like in Fahrenheit 451 by Bradbury, when things such as firefighting will not be to put out fires, but to start them for the purpose of burning books? Are we heading into Huxley’s Brave New World, or one that will make us cower with fear?
If the scent of all roses dies with the passage of time, then one can be sure that we are not far behind. The scent was made my nature and is being slowly destroyed by man. Yet, I sat in my car and watched people walking in and out of the flower shop, roses in hand, seeming content and oblivious to the insanity and their destiny. All they could see was what they were told to see by commercials and the status quo–puppets who followed societal norms they know nothing about. It was a holiday, after all. All that mattered was showing love to your sweet heart. She won’t care much if the scent is gone. She may not even remember it was supposed to be there.
“Thankfully,” I imagine some people saying. “The day just needs to be over already…”
…so one can go back to forgetting how to love on the remaining 364 days of the year. And forget about the rose that once was, and that may never be again.
I suppose tomorrow will continue to leave many memories behind. I for one will never forget the smell of a rose. My daughter may never know. And her daughter may one day ask, “Roses had a smell?”
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And then there’s genetically-engineered food. . .
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Pittershawn,
You are right, there are no smells. And until you reminded me, I’d almost forgotten that there once was a smell to them. Excellent post. Thanks for the reminder. Have a blessed day.
Love & Peace,
VeeJay
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Wonderful post. I agree. What’s the purpose of having roses just to say you have roses if they don’t give off their alluring tell-tale scent. Lavender roses have always been my favorite. Sadly much fruit in the market is the same way too.
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This is hard-hitting and frightening in its simplicity. Only a truly analytical mind can take something so basic, that we take for granted, and show us how the whole world is changing before our eyes and under our noses.
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Wonderful post. Reminds me of a book I once read about a family from India that migrated to America. They went grocery shopping and were appalled that the fruit and vegetable section of the store had no smell, other than polish…its a sad sign of the times.
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Amazing observation. Flowers have lost their scent, foods have lost their true taste, and people have forgotten the sound of silence. No longer are we to remember what it was to truly know the Earth and all she brought forth. We are to remain in constant confusion and in a rush to go no where.
Never forget. Never forget how the grass feels and smells; how bright the moonlight truly is; and how warm and comforting the Sun is supposed to be.
Never forget.
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Pittershawn
I got flowers or Valentine’s Day. Didn’t think about the smell much then, but (now that you mention it) you are right. The back yard of the house where I used to live was full of rose bushes. That smell was absent from my bouquet of roses. I did not know that was happening. It’s sad to think such a simple pleasure has been taken away from us.
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