Follow your nose…

…is exactly what I did today on my lunch hour (after a thoroughly exhilarating choir rehearsal with about 50 ten and eleven year-olds, but that is another story).

There are certain smells that take me back immediately, like this one…

As I crush the slightly moist walnut hull and held it to my nose, I am a boy again in the back yard, under our tree, scooping up handfuls of them. Oh, we used to collect them and mostly throw them away–they were such a pain to crack.

Not long ago, we drove through my boyhood home, and even close to my old home. Nothing seemed familiar–it was as though everything had changed, until I said to Anthony, “roll down the window!” and took in the familiar odor of the oil wells. Now that is something that never changed!

I can never smell Magic Sizing (or was it Niagara?)without thinking of sitting on the living room floor watching television while my mother ironed lord knows what. In those days, good housewives ironed everything, and my mother was no exception.

It’s times like these that I wish my blog had an olfactory widget! Oh, wait, you thought it does have one? Hmmm…

Meanwhile, back to Westgate Park…

Ah…

Nat King Cole–Autumn Leaves

Be well, and at peace,

Phil

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