The Smells of My Mind!
When I get a whiff of a diesel engine, I’m often transported back to the country highways in Turkey. I can close my eyes and picture over-laden trucks, with two or three men sitting on top of the cargo, barreling down on me with a vile black smoke rising up in the back.
Likewise when I smell bread baking, that distinct yeasty goodness, I can remember waking up in our village and seeing the hot ekmek coming out of the oven. Yes, this is again in Turkey. A lot of smells remind me of Turkey.
But it’s not the only place. If I’m walking on a leaf-strewn path in fall, that smell of decaying leaves reminds me of my Grandmother. That might seem weird to you, but for most of my life we did not live close to my Grandmother. It wasn’t until my junior year in high school that my family moved back to our hometown in Connecticut. And Connecticut smells like leaves, sweet, decaying leaves. I LOVE that smell!
Then there is the smell of beer brewing. Well, you can probably guess where that brings me to. Jim and I met and married in Germany. Bitburg is close to the western border and is famous for its namesake brew. There is nothing like waking up on a dark, foggy, winter morning and smelling that mix of hop and yeast. It’s not a smell that you easily forget. Now whenever that aroma wafts in my direction, I feel like I’m sitting in the Bitburg town square right next to the creepy statue of the child crawling by in a goat skin (harkening back to saving themselves from some marauding tribes).
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