The Scent of Your Past...
When I smell Lemon Pledge I am reminded of the Saturday mornings of my childhood, when all the windows would be opened on a spring day, and the house would be cleaned from top to bottom.
Good or bad.
Profound, or inconsequential.
He was fishing off of the dock with a friend in the early evening, when the water is warm and the sun is setting on the lake.
I came down to the dock while he had his line cast. He was leaning back with a beer, just chillin'.
I leaned down and snuggled his neck and smelled the skin, sun and faint fishy scent of my childhood summers when all the men in my family smelled like that.
It was a good feeling.
A secure feeling.
A reminder of a time when there was nothing to worry about but playing, and being sent to bed too early.
Chamomile reminds me of late evenings at my Grandparents home when family gathered to sit at the table outdoors until late into the evening.
Drinking, talking, arguing, laughing, teasing each other under the country moon, and grapevines my Deda lovingly tended.
Crickets chirping, and frogs jumping along the grass and cobblestones of the basta where the kitchen table stayed from May until the end of August, so that we wouldn’t miss one moment of the good weather.
Oh yes…scent can be a wonderful thing.
|