Wet Earth

Wet earth.

I love that smell.

     Do you know what I mean when I say 'scent memories'? I know, I know. It sounds a bit ridiculous but there is some serious truth to it. I read somewhere that the smell part of the brain and the memory part of the brain are both so close that there is a direct correlation between scent and memory recall.
Just think about it. Have you ever walked into a room while someone is baking bread and immediately you are back to when you were 12 years old helping your grandmother cut fresh-out-of-the-oven bread? Have you ever walked by someone in a store and smelled their perfume and immediately thought of your great aunt or an old lover?
     I smell wet earth and it makes me smile. I am left with a 'calm-after-a-storm' feeling. Relief, relaxation. I think of water droplets hitting the top of a canvas tent and mud squishing between my toes. I am reminded of feeling the heat lift and the humidity break after a long awaited rain shower. It was the second year I worked at a summer camp. I swear, it rained every day that summer. That smell became burned in my mind. The storms were incredible too. It took me a few years after that to shake the anxiety that came with severe thunder storms. At least once a week we would have to gather all the campers into the wig-wam (it being the only grounded building on the property) and huddle together just listening to the cracks of thunder all the while distracting the frightened children. Just sit, and wait it out. We knew once we heard the national weather service robotic voice come over our walkies what was coming and we'd shuffle on up the hill.
     After, in the twilight, once the storm had come and passed there would be a stillness. A quiet focus while nature tried to right itself after the chaos. It was in that stillness that I would feel a sigh of relief. Another one down. We made it through. -exhale- And with one inhale I was flooded with that smell. 

I love that smell.