In the distance a man is stopped at a crosswalk. As he waits he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and proceeds to light one. Touching it to his mouth he takes drag, as he exhales the light turns green and he enters the intersection. The smoke from his cigarette lingers briefly. When I reach the intersection, I catch a hint of its scent. Instantly, I am whisked away to places and times nearly forgotten, if not for these subtle reminders.

I walked into a used bookstore the other day. The musty smell of dusty books hit me. I pause, close my eyes and when I open them I am eight years old. It’s raining and the Burbank Public Library stands majestically between my school and my home. Rather, than continue home in the pouring rain I slip inside, the scent of the books hits me. I want to read, I want to read every book in that library. There is just one problem, I don’t know how. Whatever sort of learning disability I had growing up prevented me from doing the one thing I desperately desired. That day, I walked through the library, through the scene of smell it was like I was reading every page. Through my imagination the wonders unfolded with every turn.

Not long ago I made pumpkin pancakes. It was my mom’s recipe, although I am sure its not a secret, I tell no one. As I mix and pour I can smell the cinnamon and the nutmeg and the vanilla. my mom is there and she is humming a melody soft and sweet. “Then sings my soul. My Savior God to Thee. How great Thou art, How great Thou art.” The pancakes are ready and she burst into song to let the family know. “Oh I feeling mighty fine!”

“WELL, I WOKE UP THIS MORNING FEELING FINE.
I WOKE UP WITH HEAVEN ON MY MIND.
I WOKE UP WITH JOY IN MY SOUL.
FOR I KNEW MY LORD HAD CONTROL.
AND I KNEW I WAS WALKING IN THE LIGHT.
FOR I’D BEEN ON MY KNEES IN THE NIGHT.
AND I PRAYED ‘TIL THE LORD GAVE ME SIGHT
AND NOW I’M FEELING MIGHTY FINE.”

Coffee is brewing, I can hear the water perking through the small black machine on my counter. The smell of the coffee fills the room and calls to my palate. The aroma stirs in my a passion for the day, for life. I wait with anticipation, what will today bring? Whatever it is, I am sure of one thing. It will either whisk me away to a time long ago. Or it will plant a seed to be remembered years down the line.

You are loved,
cj