Our senses tie us to history, to our to our memories, to who we were, who we are, and in some cases, who we want to be.
When we listen to a favorite song, we are transported to another version of us, the version of us that was a teenager, a best friend, a spouse, a son or a daughter. The same thing happens when we look at photos, read a favorite book for the 20th time, or watch a show or a movie from our childhood. Taste reminds us of every family holiday we remember, places we’ve visited, or experiences we’ve shared. Our skin remembers hugs from loved ones long gone, how it feels to hold your child close when they are newborn and helpless, or when we hold hands with our person, the one we meant to be with for however long we are able.
Impressive as the senses listed above are, smell may be the one that is most powerful, most capable of carrying us to that place we all long to be…home None of the other senses are as honest or true as our sense of smell. Wondrous as they can be, hearing, sight, taste, and touch can be fooled or lied to. Sights and sounds can be mimicked or imitated, tastes can be recreated through chemicals, and touch can be dulled or numbed through chemical or physical means. Smell isn’t without its flaws, but it is difficult to fool.
Setting aside the immigration process, one of the toughest parts of relocating to Nova Scotia, Canada, was buying a house. We could see the houses – color, shape, number of rooms, and square footage. We could imagine how our things would look shoe-horned into the living spaces we were interested in. Google maps was invaluable to us in exploring the neighborhoods and towns where the properties were located, but it wasn’t the same as walking around the property, checking the doors, turning the faucets on and off, or “exercising the gaskets.”
My mother-in-law was a Canadian citizen, so my wife spent many of her summers in Nova Scotia with her Canadian family, and she has powerful memories of being by the ocean in Gabarus, Sydney, and Louisbourg. Growing up in Wisconsin, we both spent a lot of time on or near Lake Superior and Lake Michigan, two of the largest freshwater lakes in the world.
Being next to “big water”, there is a smell you never forget. The smell of the water blends with other smells; the decaying organic matter, the fish, the thick, humid heat, or the crisp, cold air. The scent of life and death fills the air all at once, both clean and heavy at the same time. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know what I mean.
Our realtor in Nova Scotia was helping us identify potential houses to purchase, and because we were in the United States, we did several virtual walkthroughs of houses via WhatsApp. During one of the walkthroughs, as he was walking around the perimeter of the property, he said “it smells like the ocean.” The moment he said those words, we knew we found our place, our home. Most of our adult lives we’ve wanted to live by a large body of water; one of the great lakes, one of the oceans, and his words meant more to us than any other thing he could have said
Our house is old, but the bones are good. Corny to say, I know, but it’s true. The structure is sound, but the house needs some work; flooring, paint, in time a new roof, but nothing that every other house needs over the course of their existence. Every morning when we wake up, every time we step out onto the patio, or come in from running errands, we are where we belong, we are where we want to be, we are home.
nice…
Thank You!