Our sense of smell is the greatest memory trigger we have by design. When I was a child growing up in Maryland, that first hint of the holiday season lay in the sweet, wonderful aroma of woodsmoke in the air along with those first chilly evenings in autumn.
Seems the smell of woodsmoke from burning fireplaces and autumn leaves always occurred around Halloween. We would be walking suburban Washington streets with our trick or treat bags and the aroma of woodsmoke would tickle the olfactory nerves – which set a succession of reactions in my brain signaling the approach of the holidays. Granted, the holidays were a couple of months away, but the SEARS Wish Book always managed to show up in October.
Memory really is the darnedest thing. In my late sixties, woodsmoke still triggers a euphoria unmatched. Where I live in California is no match for Maryland autumn woodsmoke. I suppose they grow different trees in Maryland than they do in California. It just isn’t the same for this East Coast born and bred soul lost in a place called Los Angeles. It just isn’t the same.
When I was in Maryland earlier this year when it was still cold, woodsmoke was thick in the air and it was better than any form of alcohol or recreational weed could offer. I took on huge lungfuls of oxygen and other gasses and held them in my lungs. It was incredible. I longed for my Maryland roots and the sweet smell of autumn.
Boomer Journey... 