how do you know but ev’ry bird
that cuts the airy way,
Is an immense world of delight,
clos’d by your sense five? – William Blake
In this poetic inquiry, William Blake invites us to ponder a world beyond the reach of our immediate senses, suggesting that every creature experiences delights invisible to us. It’s a compelling introduction to what becomes a central theme of any safari adventure: the realm of scent.
The Scents of Safari
Every moment on safari is accompanied by a distinct aroma, each one capable of living in your memory and allowing you to drawback nostalgic scenes from your time on safari.
This time of year, the reserve is a tapestry of botanicals—crunched under the wheels of the Land Rover as it rolls over wild sage and basil, each scent weaving its way into the overall fabric of your safari.
As we wind our way back to camp, a sudden, potato-like fragrance invades the air, reminiscent of a hearty, home-cooked meal. Staying at Londolozi, you quickly realize that each season has its bouquet of scents – marking the shifts in weather, the ebb and flow of vegetation, and the comings and goings of wildlife.
Humans and the Underrated Sense
While sight, hearing, and touch demand our immediate presence—sometimes even placing us in danger—our sense of smell allows a more lingering, investigative interaction with our environment. It is perhaps the least understood of our senses, often requiring comparisons to others for its descriptions.
Despite our evolutionary journey, which favoured other senses, our ability to smell continues to play a crucial role, particularly in evoking memories. Modern advancements have extended human capabilities to see further and hear wider, yet when it comes to smell, technology lags behind.
Think of the smell of summer: as moisture meets the dry African soil, it releases petrichor—a uniquely energetic, earthy aroma. As you journey around the reserve, the scents of middens and dung signal the presence of elephants and rhinos, while the familiar scent of freshly buttered popcorn betrays a nearby leopard marking its territory. These smells subconsciously bind to the visuals around you, becoming imprinted in your memory. We interact with our environment daily through smell, but how proficient are we really at detecting and processing these scents?”
Some studies indicate that our sense of smell is vastly inferior to that of animals, perhaps lacking by factors ranging from billions to merely tenfold. Despite such an apparent deficiency, humans utilize their sense of smell in surprisingly complex ways. Particularly, smell is deeply intertwined with memory. Consider nostalgia: the scent of a familiar perfume or the aroma of freshly baked bread can vividly resurrect long-forgotten memories. Over time, as humans evolved to prioritize other senses and as our brains grew larger, our reliance on smell diminished.
Perhaps a reason is smell does not allow itself to be described, but only compared with similarity through another of our ‘5’ senses. Take the English language for example – with just three dedicated smell words: fragrant, musty and stinky. Everything else is just a synonym.
The Animal Kingdom: Masters of Scent
Imagine a world not defined by hard visual boundaries but by a mosaic of scents, seeping through darkness and around corners. In this world, animals are constant olfactory explorers. Animals smell what is in the dense thicket, rather than us trying to see through the impenetrable branches and leaves.
Take a moment to consider this: when you breathe, the air goes primarily to your lungs via a single airstream allowing you to smell at the same time. For animals like dogs, however, the act of sniffing divides the airstream. Most air supports breathing, while a dedicated stream is funnelled towards olfaction, allowing scents to linger and accumulate, enhancing detection. Olfaction is detected via a labyrinth of thin, bony walls that are plastered with a sticky sheet called the olfactory epithelium. Neurons here detect the smell and send it directly to the olfactory bulb in the brain and the animal detects smell.
Animals have a dedicated compartment for smell, a key difference from us humans. When we exhale, we clear odours from our noses, causing our sense of smell to flicker. In contrast, canines experience a smoother, continuous sense of smell because odours remain in their nasal passages and are refreshed with each sniff.
The Ongoing Dance of Past and Future
Smell operates in both future and past tenses. It is a past tense sense (read that three times). It arrives before the subject and lingers long after, allowing animals to navigate a world that is both imminent and remembered—tomorrow, today, yesterday and last week’s world.
Consider the Flehmen response observed in many animals: by mixing airborne molecules with saliva, they can decode complex messages about their environment and fellow creatures.
Returning to the human experience, our safari scents do more than just mark our presence in nature; they connect us to a primal understanding that, although less pronounced than in animals, remains a potent link to our environment and our memories.
Each safari leaves a scented imprint on our memory, echoing Blake’s musings. As we navigate through the landscape, we’re enveloped by a world of delights—seen, heard, and, most intimately, smelled.
I agree that the various scents on safari really enhance the experience–even the unpleasant ones. It really puts you in your body as you bumble along in the vehicle.
Thank you for reminding us of how powerful smell is to each animal. We take this for granted imo.
I really love the smell of the bush above all other smells. It’s this special mixture of plante, flowers, animals that make all one’s senses alert and then you realize that you have really returned to the bush. Great article on smells, Keagan.
Keagan your story on the smelling sense is really interesting. Animals use their smelling sense much better than humans. It’s true after you have memorized a certain smell it will trigger something in you to that memory. How wonderful the animals use their nose to smell their kill, or their kind in estrus.
Keagan, the sense of smell is very powerful especially in the animal world. It is one of the best alert systems animals have both as hunter and as prey. We should stop and smell the roses as your blog implies.
Thanks so much for Part 3 of this series Keagan. It’s perhaps the sense of smell one first experiences as soon as arriving at Londolozi, or any place located in the bush or plains. Stepping off the vehicle, the clean, earthy scent greets you in the parking lot, soon followed by the aromas of whatever flowers may be blooming. Each of the plants and bushes offer their own kind of herbaceous, and if you arrive at mealtime, your appetite will be heightened by the aura of whatever is on the menu.
Great pics for this piece!!!
Keagan, is it true leopard urine smells like popcorn?