Taking Me Back
My hands smell of tomato plants. I just snapped a few weak branches off my plant to encourage new growth and when I smelled my hands I was suddenly seven years old running around the garden barefoot with sun streaked hair swishing in the wind. There were marigolds and gophers and carrots that I pulled from the earth, orange and delicious, to be eaten raw with most of the dirt brushed off. My mother was crouched to the ground pulling weeds and I was waiting for the gourds and pumpkins to be full and ripe. Beautiful.
What was the last smell that stopped you in your tracks?
