Wood Smoke

I went across the street to see my neighbor a while ago, and he was getting ready to smoke some sort of meat. He and his wife were tending the fire, and during our conversation, the smoke enveloped us. I was standing in the sun and the cool wind was blowing. It reminded me of camping many years ago.

Later, my daughter (broken elbow) made a trip to my parents' house for some sewing work that needed to be done on a choir dress. Not mine.

My jacket smelled of smoke, and I asked my Dad to smell it, and then I asked him to smell it and tell me what it reminded him of. He gave the correct response: it smelled like camping at Lake Sam Rayburn, more specifically, Ebeneezer Park.

That was the place where we used to go in the late fall and winter to camp, when we had the campground nearly all to ourselves. The giant pine trees would drop enormous pine cones, which we would gather and bring home to GranMommy for her stash.

It's funny how the nose leads you down memory lane so quickly!