I’ve said many times that I grew up in rural (VERY rural) northern New Hampshire. But I haven’t said that for the last 15 years, I’ve lived in cities. I prefer the cities. I like the services and conveniences of urban life (at least, “urban” by New Hampshire standards), and I think I would rather move to Massachusetts than move back to East Bum, Cow Hampshire.
That being said, there are certain things about the country life that I do miss. And last week I was reminded of one of them.
I was out for a drive, and I went past a freshly-mown field. The scent of fresh-cut grass overwhelmed me, and I very nearly pulled over in euphoria.
Then, a couple minutes later, I came upon a road project — replete with the stench of freshly-laid asphalt. I wanted to gag.
My heart and soul belong to the city, but my nose is still up north. And I think I’d rather smell fresh cow crap than hot tar.
Funny… the smell of hot tar actually makes me smile.
Every summer, Dad would re-tar or patch the driveway. He’d humor me and let me “help” a little. That smell just brings backs fond memories of summertime as a child. Funny how that is.
The smell of fresh cut grass brings back the same kind of summertime memories – except it always makes me crave a beer. Reminds me of sitting on the back steps with Dad after he’d just finsihed the lawn and sneaking a little of his Coors.
Fresh mown grass mingled with gasoline fumes–now that’s nostalgia.
I love the smell of hot tar in the morning…it smells like victory. (Sorry, Francis Ford Coppola
Jay, I live out in a rural area of Michigan, BUT, I prefer wake up in the morning and hear…nothing. I am a rural lad that can’t stand the city life. I would rather drive 40 minutes to the store(s) than to see the parking lot lights lighting up the sky at night….and don’t get me started about traffic.
Thank god i’m a country boy.