All of life is composed of hydrogen, oxygen and carbon. Mostly it is water that fills living cells and acts as the medium for organization and awareness. Water, then, could be God. And carbon, the devil. Or perhaps water is the fundament of heaven and God the electricity that flows through it, and the other trace elements the pantheon of gods. And carbon the devil.
If there is a heaven, and a God, why do we need to consider it as all in another world, another plane? It seems that it would be much more efficient for heaven and hell and the general mayhem of the cosmos to take place right here on earth. The level of the microscopic should not be construed as somehow smaller than us; it is, in fact, vast and enormous, for it is simply the world we play in — and the universe from which physics is described.
And so, the smell of water could be the smell of God and that is why I would feel so alive stepping out the back door after a spring rain with the slight chill of April still on the wind and the spongy earth beneath my feet. My lungs are filled with the heavenly host. Metaphors have no meaning beyond the magic we give them. Physics rules. There only appears to be magic here. If what happens is real, it is never magic. I do not believe in magic. I do not believe in anything, although I know that I have been covering something up that is very important about myself for many, many years.
There are, of course, dreams. In my dreams the only smell is the smell of water. I am reminded of this riding into work on the train. Two stops after mine I notice the husband of a friend reading the paper as he waits in line to board the train. His name is Eric.