It amazes me just how visceral an odour/scent can re-awaken a long past memory, place or time, in an instant.
On two occasions today I was transported through space and time. And both destinations could not have been more different.
The first occurred on my morning commute as I got on the 121 bus at Cote-Vertu Metro, heading to work. At the best of times you are introduced to many a 'fragrance' on the Bus (and in the metro) I often consider shoving two wine corks up my nose in the Summer... In general things are more tame this time of year. Today was not one of those days. Just as the last few morning commuters crammed onto the bus it was as if I heard the bell ring in my Junior High School, and it was time for Gym Class. The locker room was at a constant 95% humidity, and smelled of a tangy melange of mildew, angst and awkward teenage male hormones, BO and Mennen Speed Stick. God how I hated gym class, and the main reason was because for a solid hour after, that was still all you could smell. Thank god for High School when Gym became an elective which I quickly opted out making that smell a distant memory... well until today.
Fast forward, to my evening commute. On my way home on the Metro someone entered the car I was in at Plamondon Metro. In that instant I was no longer sitting in the metro car, I was at my Grandmother's house, or more specifically on the back porch. It was Summer time, I was probably 8 or 9 and was spending two weeks at her house.
- When I was younger my Parents were divorced and over Summer Vacation I would spend a few weeks with my Mom's Mother. Some younger boys might not have enjoyed that, but I was always close to her, we were two of a kind, our birthdays only a week apart. Like sibling separated by two generations. So this was always a great time for me. And on top of it I was away from my dick of a brother AND Point Pleasant Park was my playground. I can assure you I was not suffering. -
There was a large wild rose bush next to the back door. It would flower all summer long. It was impossible to be there in the Summertime and not smell those roses.
There was a large wild rose bush next to the back door. It would flower all summer long. It was impossible to be there in the Summertime and not smell those roses.
I can remember all those Summers spent at her house, playing down at the park, going to the country to the old family homestead. It seems like yesterday. And a large part of me wishes it was...
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On reflection, I am glad that these two scented flashbacks happened in the order they did... the later more than making up for the former. Not to mention that my sense of smell has returned, post-plague of last week.
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