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Can you really smell memories? Some childhood scents got 'etched' onto my brain and now and then I can smell something unexpectedly that transports me back to moments which left lasting impressions. Those memories are different from others. They have a certain signature associated with them. They are more vivid and more emotional.
I can remember the smell of the pine trees that friends of mine and I sat under when we were in our early teens. We sat and talked about the exciting mystery of boys, dreamed of being grown up and all the things we would do. The feeling of happy newness and excitement of our teen years comes back with just a whiff of pine needles.
Every time I eat an apple it evokes the smell of all those apples at a relative's house spreading all over the floor, good and bad apples, as they were so many picked from apple trees he had in his backyard. I never understood why they were never sold at the local market or given away. Supply was higher than Demand, everybody had apple trees in their backyards. Those apples had a unique smell.
When I was young I lived in the village, and remember well the smell of the lilac and rose bushes people had in their flower gardens. Whenever I smell them now I seem to be able to regress back into my childhood, and recall happy memories. Some backyards were so big, they had many gardens with fruit trees, vegetables, flowers, all sort of plants. Walking through the plants, smelling and feeling it all, I remember many times saying, I wanted to study Botany, the science of plant life.
I still clearly remember the smell of wax in the cans my mother, grandmother and aunts used to rub in their hardwood floors, and that was fifty years ago. The smell from right before the holidays, especially Easter Monday, when the Priest visited the houses, tradition I hear still exists today, and they all had to be pure cleaned.
We all have time machines in our heads. Sounds can also transport you back, but somehow scents of past memories have a stronger impact than sounds. Although sometimes I can hear the deep and distinctive voice of an older second cousin. I can hear children voices playing near the school, the music playing during festivals, and the voice of my grandmother bargaining the cost of something at the weekly flea market. I actually can still smell the fresh mushrooms which back then women sold door to door along with other produce. They don't smell the same today!
I also can still smell the school books of yester year, the furniture polish used on our school desks, and feel the touch of old fabrics my mother used, to make our new dresses for school and holidays.
Other smells are not as flattering, but I can still smell the odor of the chicken coupe and pig sty my grandparents had. Smell is one of our senses for survival and when growing up early smell learnings are remembered for good or bad, people get pleasant memories or bad.
After my parents, my sisters and I moved to the city, we visited my grandparents every weekend. Memories of that Opel my father had and the diesel fuel smell are not welcome, as I still remember getting car sick.
One last thing I remember distinctively is the smell coming from the other villages surrounding our village, as we approached them when visiting. The smell of the fire logs people there used to cook their meals, the wood stoves, the taverns, the smell of the elder and pauper population in those areas. Wondering if and when I return, the nostalgic feeling will be the same! To find out one of these days...
Oh, The Scent Of Nostalgia!
