My dad used to shine his Army boots each Sunday...I can still remember the smell of black paste shoe polish...
My mom wore Roses, Roses cologne by Avon...the smell of roses reminds me of her
My great grandfather chewed tobacco...it was gross, but the smell of cigars, tobacco, etc. reminds me of him fondly
I remember a lot of people more by scent...I prefer the natural scent of a person and just do not like perfumes and flowery smells much...
Blackcurrants - both the smell and the taste.
My grandfather lived in a very old house and, by the stableblock (which had been converted into workshops for his business and, later, my father's) there was an extremely old blackcurrant bush which was too ancient to fruit most years. My grandfather bought that house in 1927 when it was already four centuries old; he was an avid amateur horticulturist and estimated the bush was about the same age.
However, once in a while it would manage to produce a handful of berries, and they were the most amazing thing I have tasted in my life (and because I was so spoiled, he'd let me eat all of them).Now, whenever I smell or taste blackcurrants, I'm instantly transported back to the last time I ate them from that bush, which was when I was nine years old. That Autumn, he died. The summer preceding that Autumn was the last time I was ever truly happy, and that's why I try to avoid the smell and taste of blackcurrants.
Crushed cedar needles- joy of hiking.
Cinnamon - my mother, cinnamon lover. She put it in chocolate chip cookies.
Sage leaves - shrub-steppe of Eastern Washington.
Dry, crackling leaves underfoot- growing up in Michigan.
Baking bread - with my daughter.
Fresh air in the mountains- How lucky I am to have eyes that see, a strong body to hike steep trails, and a heart that soars with the beauty of the great outdoors.
Peat or “turf” as they call it here in Ireland. I don’t smell it much around here now, with oil-fired central heating and fancy wood burners being the norm, but when I first came to live here there was a lot of peat burned. You can still smell it in the air in places such as Donegal and down the West Coast of Ireland.