Olfaction and memory

Abstract

The scent was so heavenly fine that tears welled into Baldini’s eyes. He did not have to test it; he simply stood at the table in front of the mixing bottle and breathed. The perfume was glorious. It was to Amour and Psyche as a symphony is to the scratching of a lonely violin. And it was more. Baldini closed his eyes and watched as the most sublime memories were awakened within him. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; h..