Yesterday was the official first day of spring at my house because I left the doors to my terrace open all day. I marked it by doing what my Italian neighbors call Easter cleaning—that is, spring cleaning. I worked at a leisurely pace by doing a task (or part of one) then retiring to the terrace to read a chapter (Elizabeth Zelvin’s excellent Voyage of Strangers). Sitting on the terrace gave me an olfactory tour of my neighbors’ homes.
![The Scents of Sunday The Scents of Sunday](http://m5.paperblog.com/i/84/845676/the-scents-of-sunday-L-KAVEvM.jpeg)
![The Scents of Sunday The Scents of Sunday](http://m5.paperblog.com/i/84/845676/the-scents-of-sunday-L-KxO0bm.jpeg)
![The Scents of Sunday The Scents of Sunday](http://m5.paperblog.com/i/84/845676/the-scents-of-sunday-L-6CxlSr.jpeg)
![The Scents of Sunday The Scents of Sunday](http://m5.paperblog.com/i/84/845676/the-scents-of-sunday-L-URaBtG.jpeg)
After being enticed by the scents of my neighbors’ kitchens, I entered mine and made a sandwich from leftover pork roast (studded with garlic and rosemary) accompanied by a glass of freshly squeezed blood orange juice. No aroma to reveal myself to the neighbors. I settled on the terrace again, munching my sandwich and getting back to Diego and Rachel (Elizabeth Zelvin’s characters).
![The Scents of Sunday The Scents of Sunday](http://m5.paperblog.com/i/84/845676/the-scents-of-sunday-L-e_ZoBZ.jpeg)