“You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way.” – Walter Hagen

Smells. My grandfather’s house. Lysol-smelling colonoscopy prep. Christmas trees. Snow-covered mountains. Today, I’ve just written a poem explaining my favorite scents. I hope you enjoy!

Gracie’s House

I pull into the drive
and park my car.
Sitting, waiting, relaxing.
I’m here, my happy place.
I turn off the engine
and look out my window.
My pretty little mare,
stares back at me.

Hearing my door open,
her ears move forward,
with head held high,
peering over the stall.
She nuzzles the halter,
I open the gate,
feet prancing below her,
she’s ready to run.

Off in the distance,
I smell it before I see it.
A special scent of fly spray,
reminiscent of horse camp.
And with that one scent
I’m taken to a place
where worries are lost
and friendship is found.

There’s dust in the air,
it collects on my eyelids.
Hay on my arms,
manure beneath my feet.
Some may turn their nose up,
disgraced by the thought.
But these smells are my quiet;
I like them, a lot.

What memories do you have, both good and bad, that are triggered by certain smells?