As I brought the first spoonful of raspberries to my mouth, I was transported back to my grandparents' home in Calais, Maine. My great aunt and I were the pickers so we had first dibs on the berries, which we ate guilt free with cream and sugar. Yes, sugar. And I still use sugar. My husband accuses me of gilding the lily. Oh well.
Whenever I catch a whiff of jet exhaust, it reminds me of stepping off the plane in Santiago, Chile, to start my Peace Corps stint. That arrival in Santiago was over 40 years ago!
And lilacs--uncommon in California's central valley--conjure up images of an enormous bank of lilacs bordering the back of our property in Haverhill, Massachusetts. I really can see them in my thoughts.
Scents, odors, smells. They are the most direct route to our memories. The other senses--taste, touch, sight, hearing--these aid our memories. But nothing is as acute as the sense of smell. That same great aunt who was my co-picker of raspberries, beans, peas, tomatoes and pears had no sense of smell. But she loved her food even so. I am grateful to be able to enjoy what the world has to offer using the full spectrum of my olfactory senses.
Thank goodness for those memories.
A Note to Readers: After too long, I am back on course. Over the last several months, my blog has experienced some hiccoughs. Photos have disappeared from prior posts and I am unlikely to take the time to replace them all and the appearance of the blog has been impossible to change. Bear with me as I try to "crack the code" to make it better. I will continue to post regularly, however, with or without successful changes.
Whenever I catch a whiff of jet exhaust, it reminds me of stepping off the plane in Santiago, Chile, to start my Peace Corps stint. That arrival in Santiago was over 40 years ago!
And lilacs--uncommon in California's central valley--conjure up images of an enormous bank of lilacs bordering the back of our property in Haverhill, Massachusetts. I really can see them in my thoughts. Scents, odors, smells. They are the most direct route to our memories. The other senses--taste, touch, sight, hearing--these aid our memories. But nothing is as acute as the sense of smell. That same great aunt who was my co-picker of raspberries, beans, peas, tomatoes and pears had no sense of smell. But she loved her food even so. I am grateful to be able to enjoy what the world has to offer using the full spectrum of my olfactory senses.
Thank goodness for those memories.
A Note to Readers: After too long, I am back on course. Over the last several months, my blog has experienced some hiccoughs. Photos have disappeared from prior posts and I am unlikely to take the time to replace them all and the appearance of the blog has been impossible to change. Bear with me as I try to "crack the code" to make it better. I will continue to post regularly, however, with or without successful changes.
