Ah yes! I remember it smelled . . .

I think that smell is the greatest vehicle for nostalgia that we have. Sometimes I find myself thrust into the past over sounds (songs especially) or sights (pictures, returning to places), but as far as that really crazy near deja vu experience goes, smell is in a class on its own.
I started thinking about this concept a few weeks ago when I was walking home from the park. I smelled some overripe grapes while I was walking by one house, and it reminded me of the grape vines in our backyard in Bountiful. That has always been part of the smell of fall to me: overripe grapes, rotting leaves, bonfires. It takes me back to those days of raking up the leaves from our maple tree and building forts out of them with Tyson and Melissa.
Since then I've been noticing smells. I think fall is one of the more potent times for it, because everything has been sending me reeling. Last winter my mom gave me this little stuffed dog with a rice bag in its stomach. Every time I heat it up now the smell reminds me of the craziness of last winter, especially of waking up at 5 am with my bed still a little warm and trying desperately to talk myself into getting up and driving to Spanish Fork again.
I also go through stages with my lotion, which creates some interesting smell memories. I'll wear one scent for a little while, then switch to something else or nothing else. Lately I've been using my White Tea and Ginger again, and it's been taking me back to my first reading of Twilight. Weird, huh? Wearing Brown Sugar and Fig takes me back to the Christmas when Landon set me up with a kid named Evan, who took me to see The Chronicles of Narnia.
That rotting leaves smell I talked about earlier - that shows up all over the place, especially in canyons and parking lots. You know the one I mean - kind of a sickly sweet smell of decay and rain and leaves. It makes me think of one year at the Glenwood when I always smelled it in this one little place on my walk to school and it was a comforting smell. It brings back memories of listening to the Black Crowes and getting over things.
Add to that smells like baking cookies and cinnamon potpourri and new car and the blue Herbal Essences shampoo, and you pretty much have me remembering my whole life. It makes complete sense to me that the change of seasons and Christmas and things like that hit you harder. There's more to smell and more to remember.
I thought if I wrote long enough I'd figure out a point to this post. No such luck, just some meandering thoughts. Annie Dillard I am not, but maybe if I keep it up I'll work it out someday.