Where there’s smoke, there’s fall.
Fall.
Growing up in the Sunshine State, fall fell every September on the calendar – but not in our hearts.
Oh, there was some notion of the changing of seasons with 80 degree days, lower humidity and SEC football games.
While my sister and I were in grade school, my parents took us out of school for a week.
After loading up the station wagon, we headed northward on our annual pilgrimage to the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina.
We stayed in cabins, lodges and places where it made sense to have a fire burning in the fire place and hot chocolate with marshmallows melting in a warm cup.
And eventually we encountered, one of the most distinct memories of my life.
The smell of wood burning. Especially that of an outdoor burn.
I supposed people burned things in Central Florida but I have no memory of a smell.
The scent of Central Florida fall was a slightly sharper essence of muck and lake. Warm air — not hot, which was a whispering sigh of relief to summer’s glare.
That’s when fall arrived. Looking out the car window, onto gray skies and mountains of color with my nose full of the robust odor of charring wood. Breathing in deeply, filling my lungs with all that delicious carcinogenic air.
To a girl raised on beaches and smell of decaying minute sea creatures, it was heaven.
Or at least fall.
Linking up with Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: 1.) Describe a smell that brings back memories.
What about you? What smell means summer has slipped into fall?
Jamie – I just LOVED that first line. So true! Us Floridian bred kidlets had no idea that September heralded such colors and temperatures. This was such a great writing prompt. Loved your descriptions!
Yes Missy, falling into a pile of autumn leaves and making a snow angel. Two of my unrealized childhood fantasies.
smells of fall are heaven no matter where you grow up kaye—the road goes ever ever on
I always associate the smell of woodsmoke with fall, too, but I didn’t when I was growing up in Ohio. Back then we lived in the suburbs, where they didn’t allow burn days and most people had gas fireplaces for looks, not actual wood-burners for heat. Here in a small town Out West it’s different – lots of days for people to burn leaves and other yard debris (and who knows what else), as well as plenty of people who use stoves for heat. As long as the smoke isn’t too strong I, like you, love it!
Funny what memories smells can trigger, isn’t it?
It’s funny Caryn. Around here in small town Georgia, I’ve heard people say they associate the smell of outdoor burning with spring when they would burn the lawns down for the new growth.
Mmm. That smokey smell means fall to me, too. Where I grew up we would have fires in the fireplace on cold nights. Those were my favorites. I also love the smell of cinnamon! My mom would buy those cinnamon pinecones every fall so it’s a very nostalgic scent for me 🙂
The smell of damp, musty leaves is my sign fall has come
For me, oddly enough, it is the cold air smell. You know what I’m talking about? The smell of that crisp cold morning, when the leaves are on the ground and you think “This is perfect jeans and sweatshirt weather.”? I always associate that cold, crispness with a smell of fall, whether it really is or not!
I agree, the smell of fire in the woods is Fall at its best. What wonderful parents you had to pack you up and take you to the woods to experience Fall. I wonder if they really knew what they were doing at the time?