How Scents Connect Us to Our Past
The Powerful Way Smells Unlock Our Deepest Memories
It rained last night; I heard it on the windows built into the sloping ceiling of my bedroom. It was the first time it had rained for about two weeks, unusual for March in Western Europe.
It's been unusually warm for the time of year; it was 23 degrees C on Friday (the normal temperature should hover around 9). I got up as usual just before 6 AM, dressed, and went downstairs. When I opened the door, I sat outside on my terrace with my morning cup of coffee. I look forward to that first morning coffee when I go to bed every night.
This morning was different when I opened the door to the Terrace. The gorgeous smell of wet earth was so strong that it relaxed me instantly, accentuated, I suppose, by the long and dry period. It got me thinking about how strong the sense of smell is and how it brings back more memories than anything else.
The Perfumes of the Past
My mother died in 2011 at the age of 83. While I can’t be 100% certain about the name of the perfume she used to wear, I smell the faintest hint of the perfume now and again, perhaps in a shop or walking in the park. It could be anywhere, and the memories of Mom come flooding back, from how she held me close when I was a toddler to the long hugs we shared later in life.
My father passed away in 2018, and although he didn’t wear it anymore in his later years when I was growing up in the sixties and seventies, he used Old Spice aftershave like so many of those times. It was a perfume that will, for me, forever be the small of Dad. But that smell takes second place to a familiar aroma to experience today: the smell of freshly baked bread.
He told me once how, when he was a kid growing up on the West Coast of Ireland in a small town called Castlebar in County Mayo, they didn’t have much money, so candies were almost unheard of. This was in the late 1930s and 1940s. What they loved most, as a treat, was a slice of freshly baked bread with real butter. Every time I smell fresh bread, I always think of my papa.
Dormant Memories Awakened
These and other memories lie dormant, buried deep in our long-term memory, only to leap into our minds when we least expect them. The senses of smell and, to a lesser extent, taste always bring back the most vivid recollections, often, perhaps usually, plunging our thoughts far back into our pasts.
After my father left the Air Force in the summer of 1966, we moved to a tiny village on the west coast of Scotland. Rosneath lies on the Firth of Clyde, and despite being just a few miles from the nearest town of Helensburgh, the journey by car took almost an hour. Rosneath is located on a peninsula of the same name. The only way to get anywhere was to travel several miles to the neck and then back along the coast road to town. It didn’t help that the first part of the journey was on small, almost single-track roads.
I digress, but I’m getting to the point, I promise.
As kids, we were spoiled for choice. A typical weekend day involved playing on the beach, running up the hill, and exploring the old POW camp, which had distinctive scents.
The Unexpected Time Machine
My wife and I were in Zeeland a few weeks ago; I briefly mentioned our visit in the post from a few weeks ago. We wanted to try harvesting a few oysters from the seashore when I got a whiff of the seaweed left high and dry at low tide. Instantly, I was transported back to those childhood days in Rosneath. I hadn’t thought about those days for many years.
Yet again, an unexpected scent encountered when I least expected it had the power to dredge up all these old memories. It’s been over 50 years since I experienced them, but there they were, as fresh and crisp as though they were from yesterday.
The remarkable power of smell stays with us for life. When we least expect it, the memories inundate our thoughts. We can use these old-life experiences in our writing when laying out fictional settings if we subtly reference the smells of the places we describe.
Final Thoughts
There is a saying, "A picture paints a thousand words." Using familiar aromas and scents in our writing can only deepen the readers' experience. As writers, we often focus on what our characters see and hear, but tapping into the power of scent can create a richer, more immersive world that resonates with readers on a deeply personal level. After all, if a whiff of seaweed can instantly transport me back five decades, imagine what the right sensory details can do for your storytelling.
A shorter post this week. I confess that I spent much of this weekend enjoying the balmy weather. I’m wondering if there is such a thing as a short-form memoir. Those five years in Rosneath are something I think I’ll write about in more detail. Maybe a few thousand words could do it justice.
Until next time, have a great week of writing. Take care, Mike.
Interesting piece. Sets me thinking how I can add these into my storytelling.
Thanks for the post.