The objects, although they are temporary aggregations, give us the sense of permanence and lasting down the generations.

A house set up just so. A place that doesn’t change. A natural lagoon suddenly vulnerable to development – the ducks find new places to stop in their annual movement over the continent. For the truth of it all is not held in the seemingly permanent object. It is in the recognition and understanding of the patterns.

Waveforms, rhythms, auditory awareness brings an understanding that is closer to truth. For the sound marks the time, and fades away, replaced by another sound, and another. This, we now know, is a closer depiction of how things are. Brief aggregations, creating in pattern a beauty, a picture of life. For the sound holds another secret of vibration, it goes to the heart of the matter. At sounds and sound patterns, all configures in harmony. A resonance between all things. Everything is united in one song. The binding of consciousness through singing together, the joining of hearts through shared sound. The real truth of sound’s inner message supercedes all interest and understanding based on other senses.

And yet, there is another sense we only barely understand, and that is the sense of smell. Our ancient being, the one sleeping so comfortably in the back of the hibernation cave, awakens only at a whiff of scent. Our civilization of the sense of smell has been crushing and cruel to this wise ancient part of all humanity.

The air brings perfumes to the nose, a gasp of pleasure, a shock of disgust, our rare moments of the beauty of scent. Sending incense and burning sacred wood, reinforcing sacred events, sending offerings to the other unseen side of life, this is what scent can do. The smoke of smudge that literally purifies the body, the space – all this is our noble ancient one, expanding out into a primal intelligence with its own language and medium of expression.

It is a refinement that is non-intellectual, but a conceptual overlay can be made. It is a most personal awareness and a sensory experience rarely shared. The sharing of fine scent becomes a sort of telepathic understanding. A nod, a smile, or another reflection of the experience. There is only knowing. And shared knowing.

The scent cascade of notes harmonize with one another and with the person and the space around. The beauty of scent engages with time, like a piece of music it has a beginning, a middle and an end. It announces, it lingers and between those two, it states its particular song. Reading that pattern brings peace to the mind and heart and delights the soul. What refinement there is in fine scent. With one instant a new world opens where none was before. And we love to know that this is how life progresses, with patterns of intimacy played out through the senses, and whenever possible, shared.