Farewell Via de Ventura

For as long as I can remember, my sense of smell has been the most powerful at invoking nostalgic memories. There's a smell that I can never describe in words but I most often come across it in people's homes and it always sends me straight back to my childhood. It's a comforting smell. I remember that wherever I was when it first presented itself to me, it was a place where I felt safe and happy. I remember that I smelled it at a babysitter's or maybe a friend's home, basically, it wasn't my own. And I remember that there was a woman in the home that I really liked and I can see a blurry picture of her face in my head. I remember that when I was young I really liked Wonder Woman and, for whatever reason beyond her dark long hair, this woman with the comforting smell reminded me of Wonder Woman. It's the most powerful smell in my catalog of smells and whenever I come across it I find myself inhaling all that I can of it so that I can go back to wherever that childhood place of comfort was.


There are other times that I'll be driving down the road with the windows down and I get to experience all different kinds of smells. Sometimes I'm assaulted with Arizona's fine fertilizer smell, I had no idea that Mesa had so many farms. The smell of manure is actually the first thing I remember about driving into Mesa. I was so excited to be in Arizona finally. I drove 15 hours through different states, in awe of the mountains and valleys I saw before dark came. I was intrigued and a little frightened by the outlines of the cacti that were lining the street, as if I was getting an offensive greeting and at the same time I found it so comical. And then, finally, I'm in Mesa and I no longer noticed anything except my great need to cover my face and the stinging in my eyes. The only other time I've smelled fertilizer that was so offensive to the nose was when my sister lived in Hereford, TX, cow capital of the world, or so I've been told. I was disappointed and a little worried that I would now be forced to live in a place that literally smelled like crap. Thankfully, I did find out that this would not be a daily occurrence.


And with all that said, here's the whole point of this post. I currently commute to Scottsdale for my job but I only get to do that for one more night. I've accepted a job at a hotel much closer to my home and just off the interstate. Before this job change I had just recently discovered Via de Ventura Dr. It's a shortcut to my hotel in Scottsdale by one minute, but discovering it felt like discovering Atlantis. When I found it it was just starting to get warm here enough that I wanted to drive with the windows down. I drove past a pond and you could feel the moisture in the air, I love humidity, contrary to how the rest of the human race feels about it and I was just basking in the open air on my face and the beautiful palm trees that lined the streets and the median. And all of a sudden, there it was, the sweetest smell to ever come across my nose. Maybe it was the orange trees growing nearby along the roads, I really have no idea. What I do know is that whatever it was that I was smelling made me want to pull my car over, lay on the grass next to the pond and just look at the stars and smell that smell. It was hard to continue on to work from there, and this was happening to me night after night. I've never experienced such a content feeling before and this smell, this sweet blossoming fresh smell, was one of the most soul comforting smells I've ever come across.


After tomorrow night I won't be driving on Via de Ventura. I'll be taking the I-60 with all of it's noise and busyness. That feeling of contentment and peace won't be there anymore and I know that I'm, ironically, going to miss my commute to Scottsdale.