This is something I remember

The olfactory sense has a strange way of cracking open strong-yet-intangible sensations from the past. I sit here in the living room of my Dad’s place in Aurora, Colorado, and the distant sound of crickets comes through the screen window on dry night air. With this breeze is some scent I can’t place, a dusty smell like old furniture. It sends me back to summer nights spent at my Grandma’s. It is Youth, it is Childhood, it is The Past … It is all these things I cannot place and more.