The Smells of Summer

I once read that smell is the sense most keenly linked to memory, and I can certainly attest to that theory.  When I was 14 or so I went away to camp in Ithaca for two weeks.  I am still brought back to the dorms and the grounds there when I smell Alberto V05 strawberries and cream shampoo.  I had bought the cheapest thing I saw for camp because my bottle at home was nearly drained, and I never really used the shampoo again after that, so it's smell is a powerful memory trigger.

During summer there are a lot of smells that signal my most favorite and beloved season.  Yesterday, the temperature here in the Hudson Valley nearly reached 100 degrees, and of course I spent much of the day in the comfort of the pool.  In my mind, chlorine is one of the best smells ever.  It evokes multi-sensory images of the West Point pool in High School, the Highlands Country Club in grade school, and Pop's pool through the years.  I love it.  Last week we had a sun shower one afternoon, and for some reason the smell of rain hitting hot dirt and asphalt always makes me inordinately happy.  And of course, what says summer better than the glorious aroma of burgers cooking on the grill?  My mom and her siblings always say that they love the smell of gasoline because it reminds them of Pop when he would come home from work years ago.  My brothers and I have a similar affinity for the residual smell of cigarettes on wool.

Smell is unequivocally tied to our past emotions and experiences, and there's something about the summertime - maybe it's the heat or the humidity, I don't know - that heightens my sense of smell and makes me indelibly grateful for all the good things in life.  As the scent of the grill or the pool or the cut grass washes over me, I suddenly don't mind the oppressive heat, the sunburn, or the huge bugs that sometimes get in my way, because I'm just so lucky to be here.