by Connor Martyn
(York, PA, USA)
When I smell that unique smell of burning leaves, I’m taken back to my childhood. I remember my old house near the park and going to my first day of school. I remember a time when technology wasn’t an overwhelming thing and when we were a financially stable country, and not in a war.
Even the smell of moisture in the air takes me back to living in the suburbs far from any major roadways, where I could ride my bike through puddles and play outside in the rain.
When I smell baby powder, I remember when my brother was born, and how my life changed forever from that day on. It makes me think of how life was before I had a brother, as well as after he was born, and all the changes it made to my life.
The smell of pavement is a scent that I know all too well. We travel a lot as a family, and all the places I visit and the long hours on the road are a reminder of how spread out my family is and the opportunities I got to visit places that some friends of mine have only seen on a map.
The most important memory I get is when I smell
the indescribable smell of my home. It’s the kind of smell that brings back a culmination of all the events in that house and all the hard times and the good times. It makes me realize just how quickly life goes by. One day I’m talking about high school next year, and the next day, I’m a senior talking about college. To me, a smell is a time capsule that opens my mind to things long forgotten with just one whiff.
Click here to post comments
Return to Memoir Writing.