In Tacoma taking my husband to work in the wee hours of the morning... 8am! I am very focused on driving his car with the professional personal chauffeur attitude that characterize my conscientious self... so I do not use my brake in brisk jerking hits, I miss every single pot holes on the asphalt and I anticipate every potential problem coming my way. The only thing that will take me away from my focus is the smell. That sweet fragrance coming from the wet wood pulp large as a mini Mt Rainier. Hum yum what is that soo ooo oh soooo sweet. I would love to "stop and smell the wood pulp" but I just can't do it yet so I just drive by and smell it, just enough to make me want to take a walk in my dad's wood shed once again, to walk in the mossy forest where the mushrooms rest, to walk in the French newsstand and take a big breath. Sometimes wood can be sweeter than a rose.