Thursday, May 26, 2005


Smell is powerful evoker of memories.

A candle just snuffed out immediately takes me back to my Catholic upbringing. White and red robed boys appear before me extinguishing the candles after mass. A marble Jesus dies on a cross against a backdrop of red brick.

In the spring, lilacs watch my sister and I walking to school. We stop to smell and I get too close to their aroma and scratch my eye on a lilac bush. Lilacs are still my favorite flower. I cannot get close enough.

Sage in a prairie field and there I am with my Mother who says she loves the smell of sage as she rolls a piece between her palms. I know now she was remembering the reserve where she grew up, the crushed sage to her nose.


zeb said...

Taste is heavily supported by the sense of smell.

cuz said...

The smell of Dial soap and Fig Newtons remind me of my great-step-granddad. Songs bring up a lot of memories for me as well. When I'm listening to an old cd, certain memories of things that were going on when I first listened to those songs will crop up. Sometimes it makes me remember the bad times, but I don't stop listening. In fact, it's better to keep listening, over and over again, to create new memories with those songs to overwrite the bad ones.

Yeah, I agree with zeb. I wonder how things would taste if I couldn't smell them. I was just thinking of that yesterday. Seems like the days I have a stuffy nose, things don't seem to taste as good.

moira said...

Smoke: Late nights deep in the mountains, the crackling of fire, the silence of the forest.

Sage or manure: four years in the county, helplessness, restlessness.

Roses: a summer with my grandmother, snap peas and fresh strawberries.

Ink, toner, or glue: paper and ancient presses, the sound of sheets slapping down quickly (shhik! shhik! shhik! shhik!), the sound of a blade through reams.

Baby formula: my tiny nephew, basketball-sized, curled up on my shoulder as I dance and sing him to sleep.