The other night I was out on my patio reading a book, enjoying the waning moments of daylight and the light breeze that was gently rustling the leaves of the bushes just behind me. In that perfect moment, I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with the sweet aroma of the fresh air and sigh in perfect contentment. Well, that last sentence is what I wanted to do, what actually happened was I went to take a deep breath and ended up choking on the odor.
I couldn't help it. Even having lived here for seven (SEVEN!!!!) months now, I still haven't gotten used to the smell of pluff mud. The best way to describe this smell is to think about smelling sulfur, but that's an imperfect description. You have to smell it to understand it! Once I quit gagging, I started laughing and my thoughts wandered to the sense of smell. Specifically, how certain scents can conjure up positive memories of seasons, happy times in my life, my home in Ohio, and new scents that I will forever associate with South Carolina.
Summer is probably my favorite season, and there are certain scents that have always made me think of summer, like the smell of the chlorine in the pool. To me, chlorine=pool, and pool=summer (or even mid-spring here in SC!!!!) One of my neighbors had their grill out the other night. Even just the smell of charcoal smells like summer to me.
I have flowers on my patio, with alyssum included among them. These dainty little flowers aren't flashy, and they attract a LOT of bees, which greatly displeases me. But every year that I have a flower bed, from now until the day I die, I will include alyssum. Why? The smell reminds me of my Grandma Henry. Outside what used to be the main entrance to her house there is a flower bed, with one short edge being lined with concrete blocks that were turned on their side. The holes were filled with dirt and she used to plant alyssum as a cute little edging. I can see myself, all of six years old, standing outside the door, inhaling that wonderful aroma. It took me probably another decade to realize that the flowers were actually the smell I remembered, but it still sticks in my head as the smell of my Grandma's house, which is and always has been one of my favorite places to visit.
Every time I talk with my mom on the phone we compare the weather. Lately I say, "Oh I don't miss that one bit" as she shares that it was yet again fifty degrees, cloudy, and raining. I cannot tell you how much I enjoy the sun and the warmth here. I do miss the flowers around my house in Ohio though. Someone had daffodils this year, but they were in a ditch along a busy road, so I never got to enjoy their scent this year. Peonies are one of my favorite flowers, and I can remember their scent wafting into my bedroom window at night in late May. I haven't seen any here, but the magnolia trees are starting to bloom, and you can smell their VERY strong scent from quite a distance. To me, they smell like a Southern version of peonies. Basically, instead of just enjoying the new flowers, I am comparing it to home!
Then, like pluff mud, there are scents that I will ALWAYS associate with South Carolina. For example, the other day I came home for lunch. It was a particularly warm day, and as I got out of the car, I couldn't help but notice the scent created by the sun beating down on the wood siding of my building. I know I've smelled that aroma before, but from now on it will be forever associated with my first apartment. (And me thinking, "It smells like something is about to spontaneously combust.")
Well, right now I smell my dinner, which means it's about two minutes from burning. So I will draw this post to an end by wishing my Grandpa Henry "alles Gute zum Geburtstag!" Also, I will be back on Ohio soil in 61 short days!
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