Smell is a powerful trigger of memory.
It's now late October here at PSU, and the leaves are falling. I participated in an LGBT panel today on campus, then drove home. I parked the car, and started walking toward the apartment when the smell surrounded me- the autumnal smell of fallen leaves.
That smell, more than any other, takes me back to my childhood. The mile long walks home from elementary school, crunching the leaves in the grass on the sides of the sidewalk. Jumping into leaf piles. Yes, that smell meant summer was over, but it mean Halloween was close enough to touch.
That smell as I walked alone through the woods near the river; as I wandered around town in a golden fall sunset. As I rode my bike to wherever. The crunch of the corpses of leaves under my feet as I delivered the evening newspaper. Walking to high school football games on dark Friday nights when the smell of the leaves would overpower the smell of the pickles on my hands after the shift at Burger King.
Walking the girl I desperately wanted to love me to her apartment after class on a late State College afternoon, her hair framed by the light of the sun setting behind us. That smell playing through my life...
One of the few good memories I have. In a few weeks that smell will be gone. But I'll enjoy it for the heartbeat that it's here.
It's now late October here at PSU, and the leaves are falling. I participated in an LGBT panel today on campus, then drove home. I parked the car, and started walking toward the apartment when the smell surrounded me- the autumnal smell of fallen leaves.
That smell, more than any other, takes me back to my childhood. The mile long walks home from elementary school, crunching the leaves in the grass on the sides of the sidewalk. Jumping into leaf piles. Yes, that smell meant summer was over, but it mean Halloween was close enough to touch.
This afternoon
That smell as I walked alone through the woods near the river; as I wandered around town in a golden fall sunset. As I rode my bike to wherever. The crunch of the corpses of leaves under my feet as I delivered the evening newspaper. Walking to high school football games on dark Friday nights when the smell of the leaves would overpower the smell of the pickles on my hands after the shift at Burger King.
Walking the girl I desperately wanted to love me to her apartment after class on a late State College afternoon, her hair framed by the light of the sun setting behind us. That smell playing through my life...
One of the few good memories I have. In a few weeks that smell will be gone. But I'll enjoy it for the heartbeat that it's here.
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