- the cologne of the boy with whom I had my first slow dance (I even remember what I was wearing!)
- roses from my grandparents' garden
- the smell of the warm, thick, salt, sea air on summer vacation
- the air of grandma's attic: deep, rich and papery
I found it interesting that the myriad memories were joyful. Even the smell of the garlic weeds I had to pull by hand during vacation at my grandparents' house was shrouded by the velvet fragrance of damp earth and the pleasure of lying on my stomach in the grass.
Like Martha, most of my memories were adolescent. When I chose to return to Florida after having traveled the world, I had a visceral reaction that went beyond childhood familiarity. The hot smell of baking earth, or steam rising after a summer storm, those and more had been imprinted on my psyche. Perhaps I am part Salmon...
Being married to a chef, I have many, lovely memories generated by the scent of food. Most recently was his special homemade spaghetti prepared for my "Birthday Eve". I could smell it the second I entered the garage; warm and inviting, comforting, the scent of love.
Ah, lest I linger too long in memories, let me say that I have already finished my piece! That is no small miracle and quite a testament to the power of enthusiasm. Thank you Diane!