He waked through the green forest and listened to the various silences there. Not one silence, but several; the silence that the moss made underfoot,… - Ray Bradbury

Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.

We’ll go on the river...or we’ll go that way. Or we’ll walk the highways now. And we’ll have time to put things into ourselves. And someday, after it sets into us a long time, it’ll come out her hands and our mouths. And a lot of it will be wrong, but just enough of it will be right. We’ll just start walking around today and see the world and the way the world really looks. I want to see everything now. And while none of it will be me when it goes in, after awhile it’ll gather together inside and it’ll be me. Look at the world out there. My God, look at it out there, outside me, out there beyond my face, and the only way to really touch it is to put it where it’s finally me, where it’s in the blood, where it pumps around a thousand times ten thousand a day. I get a hold of it so it will never run off. I’ll hold on to the world tight someday. I’ve got one finger on it now. That’s a beginning.

Some laugh, some cry, some bang the world with fists, some run, but it all sums up the same: they make do.
The world swarms with people, each one drowning, but each swimming a different stroke to the far shore.