I'm walking down Laurel Street in New Orleans where Medora and I have our Airbnb rental. It's trash-pickup day and many people have discarded the Christmas trees of 2015, putting them on the grass edge between sidewalk and street. Meanwhile, the sun is strong, which excites a rose bush to do its thing. For maybe five seconds, the aroma of balsam fir and roses mingle and washes over me. My idea of a religious experience.