A familiar smell.

I stepped outside this morning into the 28°f cold air. The sun just peeking through the trees creating an orange glow through a light frog. Shadows stretching across the frost-covered leaves creating little sparkles from The morning sun. I breathed in deep while taking in a familiar scent in the chilled air. I closed my eyes and smiled.

As a young child I would spend a couple of nights at my aunt's house ever so often. It was an old rickety shack with wooden floors and plastered walls. The ceilings hung low and the walls covered with pictures of mostly people I didn't know. There was an old wood burning stove in the living room and one in the kitchen used for cooking. We would wake up early and gather wood for the stoves and I would run outside and gather eggs for breakfast. Ham, eggs, milk gravy and homemade biscuits filled the house.

We would wake up as the rooster's crowed. The house would be cold so we had to gather firewood. It was a a type of oak that grew in the woods around the house. When burned it gave off a distinct smell. I remember walking into the woods while a light snow covering the ground with a cool breeze blowing through the longleaf pines. I would close my eyes and listen to the whispering winds and smell that wood burning stove. I smelled that oak burning this morning it took me back to my childhood. A nice little trip back in time.


My aunt's old house taken from Google maps.