The path I take while running is the sidewalk that surrounds the neighborhood I live in. Now that Spring has sprung, supposedly, the trees that are planted on the easement are in full bloom. They look beautiful and I have always admired the gorgeous white flowers when I drove by them during this time of year.
The appreciation has come to a screeching halt.
While running past these trees the other day I smelled something. It was a smelly smell that smelled like...well...poop. Manure. Number 2. You know what I'm talking about. So I mention the fact that my olfactory unit was being assaulted by this smell to Alicia who was bouncing along next to me in her sprightly fashion. She says to me: "It's the trees."
Yes, the trees that I had been envious of for years. The trees that look like they are draped with delicate snow and shiver beautifully in the wind are actually POOP SCENTED. As we ran down the sidewalk the smell was almost overwhelming. In my mind I was thanking my lucky stars that we did not plant one of these trees in front of our house because I would be forced to take a chainsaw to it and dance around it's dismembered body...while I plugged my nose of course.
I think the smell actually hurt my time running. Either that or it helped my time because I started running faster to get past the trees. I'm really not sure.
I'm also not totally sure what the "technical" name for the Poop Tree is...I think they might be Bradford Pear Trees but don't quote me on that. They stink...literally and you can quote me on that.