August wind, evocative smells, and childhood

Submitted by Jeff Buster on Sat, 08/29/2009 - 20:51.

I took Tucker out side just now and was almost overwhelmed with reminiscences of when I was 12, o4 13,
 
 We had driven all day in the 41 Chrysler Fluid Drive, north of San Francisco, and as it became darker and darker my Mom would prod my Dad to find a place to camp. 
 
But there wasn’t the right place with the right feng.  
 
I was the youngest falling a sleep in the back seat with my head in my Mom’s lap.  (Can’t beat that. Ever)
 
I was in and out of consciousness but when the car engine shut off, everythoing was pitch dark.
 
Nobody had eaten any dinner, and I sensed there was a bit of disgruntlem3nt in the air.
 
But what I remember as if it were NOW. Was the air.
 
I think we were near Stinson beach and salt wind swept up through the car.  I could hear the tree leaves in every pulse. 
 
No dinner.
 
There was argument between my brothers and my Dad.
 
The ground cloths were spread, and the WW!! Mummy bags rolled out. 
 
I don’t remember much more. 
 
Except in the middle of the night I woke up.
 
I thought I could hear the Pacific Ocean far below. The wind smelt wonderful.
 
I was with my family.
 
 
It turned out, in the morning,  that we had turned into a cemetery.
 
I felt it all again this evening in Ohio, thousands of miles away, in a similar summer wind.
 
Love life

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nothing stirs the memory more than smell...

Submitted by ralph solonitz on Sat, 08/29/2009 - 23:03.

 it takes you right there...