In the
heat of the day, the wild concord grapes seem to release their distinctive
smell, and in certain places of town, the air is infused with a delicate smell
of grape. It always reminds me of Welch’s Grape jelly, which isn’t too
surprising, of course, but yet an important personal link to my own childhood
somehow.
Odors
in general are powerful things, stimulating not just our olfactory senses but
also our memories in which they were a part. Spring has its verdancy, of
Earthiness and water and new growth. Summer’s fragrances are more sultry, the
stickiness of pollens, the smell of cut grass and of barbeques, honeysuckle and
of thunderstorms. Autumn’s smells are all their own, of ripeness and of decline,
the grape vines, apple cider steaming in a mug, the tannins of fallen leaves
after a shower, the first hints of wood fires as the nights grow chilly.
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