Fond memories: honeysuckle blossoms

One of my earliest memories of childhood in northwest Louisiana is of picking honeysuckle blossoms, in front of our home in a lakeside community of about 800 people.

Paired with that memory is a lesson in treating bee stings with chewing tobacco, but the reward always seemed worth the risk. In fact, at one time I was going to collect the nectar in mason jars and sell them to my neighbors; consider that my first entrepreneurial failing.

Anyway, it’s been years since I’ve recognized that fragrance, but as I rode through the countryside this evening, just outside of city limits, it tickled my nose. It was incredible.

It’s not often that I’m taken back to search early memories—in fact, it’s quite rare. So I’m curious: What scents or flavors take you back?

 

6 Responses to “Fond memories: honeysuckle blossoms”

  1. Lauren G
    May 11, 2011 at 11:34 am #

    Orange blossoms, confederate jasmine, the mossy, peaty smell of the live oak trees…and the smell of sprinklers!
    Thanks for reminding me!

    • james
      May 16, 2011 at 3:13 am #

      It’s interesting to read “orange blossoms” from people on opposite ends of the country. I love that mossy smell – I love that earthy scent.

  2. Tari
    May 12, 2011 at 8:26 pm #

    My grandfather’s after shave. (Old Spice)
    Pipe Tobacco
    Bug Spray (Chigger bites suck.)
    And, yes, Honeysuckle as well.

    • james
      May 13, 2011 at 6:36 am #

      Ah, chigger bites! That brings up memories of the smell of sulfur…it keeps chiggers and ticks away!

      • Tari
        May 13, 2011 at 4:42 pm #

        Yes! I remember using matches to make ticks fall off.

  3. Tari
    May 13, 2011 at 2:22 am #

    One not from my youth, but a distinct memory is of my grandmother. A year before she passed, we visited them for Christmas. My Grammy could never stay asleep and would often get up in the night. The night before we left, I awoke at 3am to the smell of bacon cooking. She figured she’d get a jump start on breakfast. I got up and sat with her, chatting the night away as she sizzled bacon.

    A few years later I visited my Baba. He now lived in the house next door and I was staying alone in their old house. In the months that I was there, I was awoken at least once a week to the smell of bacon cooking. It comforted me to know that Grammy was watching over me.

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