When I was a kid, although exiled to the Midwest most of the year, I’d spend at least a month at a beach in San Diego County. I remember stepping off the airplane and being greeted by the sweet moist smell of California. I’d wait for my grandmother to pick me up and breathe in the air. I called it the smell of California.
When I moved up North, I forgot about the smell. Northern California doesn’t have the same moist, crisp scent. Then, I moved to LA and my nostrils reminded me.
Although I don’t find the scent daily, I am reminded of it frequently. Found mostly in the mornings, it’s the smell of adventure, freedom, possibilities. It’s probably because as a child I’d wake to that smell and go off and have adventures at the beach every day. Those childhood mornings were full of possibilities. But the images evoked when I smell it are the same.
When I wake to that smell – like I have today – I am reminded of my beach day possibilities and can’t help but be excited for what is in store.