It’s funny what smells can do. On this wet, quiet spring morning, I caught a brief scent of woodsmoke–perhaps a leftover from a neighbor’s fireplace–and in an instant, I was whisked a good many miles and a number of years back. Once again, I was a child on our farm. It was springtime and hope and warmth were in the air. Down in the hollow in back of the house, Dad was busy cutting out brush, stacking it into piles, and burning it, to clear some land. Peace and contentment floated up from the hollow. All was well with the world.
Perhaps scents more than any other of the senses have the power to bring back memories. Or, are they not quite memories but are just brief flashes of remembrance, here and then gone?
People are strange creatures, much like sponges that soak up perceptions as we go through life. Sometimes we meet a stranger who seems not to be a stranger at all but someone we’re completely familiar and comfortable with. Sometimes something that should be a problem isn’t that at all, but has an answer that may not be visible to anyone else. And sometimes, we catch a fleeting glimpse of a past time and a past feeling that appears and then vanishes, much like the faint scent of wood smoke.
When I walk Buster in the morning I often can tell what the people in the houses are having for breakfast!
I’ll bet that Buster can too!
You have a deep mystical affinity, Blanche! I love the way you experience and describe the world.
Thank you, Kimberly. A sweet compliment.