The Smell of Home

Late Friday night (about 2 am) we pulled into the driveway after a long day on the road. It feels lovely to be on Spring Break, and home. It especially feels lovely to have this warm, humid weather and hear the frogs and the bugs and just the smells and sounds and feel of this place. I've been noticing recently how much smell is a part of my sense of a place--I can't name and can barely identify most of the smells I associate with home and don't think about it much when I'm not here, but when I come back they all come back to greet me like a hundred quietspoken little friends--the smell of the walls and wood and lights and indoors in general, the smell of dust and water and our winds and grasses, and all the others things I can't identify but recognize when I meet them.

Winter back at school had its good points--it was kind of neat to come outside after hours of the internal buzz in my mind and the external buzz of radio, people, whatnot, and hear that crystalline silence. Just the cold air and such a complete silence--practically no cars or people and no breezes so if you shut your mind up and listened it was amazing to hear how complete that silence was and how far it stretched. But I am glad again for the noises of spring and summer--frogs, crickets, night breezes, grass blowing--I even heard an owl a few weeks ago.

Saturday morning, after our long road trip, I even got a welcoming committee--my niece and nephews came and woke me up. I am very impressed with the service around here. From the sound of them before they came in the room it sounded like my niece was giving her brothers a guided tour. "This is where Auntie is."

It's good to be home.