Scent

It was yesterday, when listening to a marvelous concert playing Dalla's Caruso that I smelled a familiar, well known, soft scent....scent that reminded me of summer days in Provence, smell of pine trees in the evening breeze....scent of first love and escape. When nothing mattered, when all was allowed and the world was ours. The smell of freedom and days spent without food, just thinking of him. Memories of giggling, holding hands, slow and unsure kisses, shy looks and old towns, evenings spent talking about dreams over a bottle of French bordeaux. All of a sudden during the concert pictures were rolling in front of my eyes...colours, words, feelings, emotions. And I wonder where is he? What is he doing? Is he still a Parisian gentleman with a simple soul and green eyes that I know? But then, do I really want to know all this...aren't memories too precious to spoil them with new, grown up, reality?


How come have I not thought of him earlier? It has been 9 years, yet after our goodbye, there haven't been many moments of me thinking of him, especially lately. Interesting how we link smell to a certain event or a person. Is then all what remains in time and can really bring all emotions back the smell? Has scent such power over oud mind?


It made me think that from now on, it is not going to be pictures that I will wish to memorize, but scent of a place, of a person, of food. Even now when writing this, I can smell him and it brings a smile to my face. A grateful smile proving how lucky I am to experience all this, how there is no need to settle for less, when you know that such moments can, do and will continut to happen.