Memories are sometimes bound to pictures, but they are sometimes linked to smells. Today’s story was prompted by a smell I had not felt in many years, that on my walk yesterday I encountered. It was not a bad smell then, nor a bad smell now. Just one I had not run into in many years. Now that I know the garden at the end of the street has this plant, I will walk by again. I hadn’t walked that way, in the entire time we’ve lived in our part of Maryland. The smell reminded me of the plants we had in our yard in Indiana. Near the railroad bridge and the pond. The pictures today took me back to where I remembered the scent. I smelled it yesterday. And couldn’t place the smell.
It funny sometimes, you smell something, and it is an overwhelming familiar scent. But you can’t place thereof the scenes. I was prepping for the week yesterday, thinking about what pictures and possible stories to share. I usually do that on Sunday, but yesterday was a holiday, so I did it yesterday. Yesterday for those reading later was the US Memorial Day and a Monday. I saw the pictures of the pond and realized that it was the smell. The smell I encountered on the walk. For a moment, I let my discovery wash over me. It is exciting to connect multiple forms of memory into a single unified mind. It probably won’t last as I will forget the smell again.
But for today, it is fresh in my mind. There at the end of our yard. When the kids were older than little, we got a trampoline in our yard. I realize we were very strict about the trampoline. Our neighbors down the street got a trampoline recently. Yesterday as we turned the corner, I saw nine maybe eight kids jumping on the trampoline. We never allowed more than two kids at a time, and one of them had to be seated. There are many horror stories of kids breaking legs and arms because they are airborne and come down on a suddenly stretched and rigid trampoline surface. I remember banning kids from our yard because of their unwillingness to follow that simple rule.
This work is Copyright DocAndersen. Any resemblance to people real or fictional in this piece is accidental.