September's arrived baring all it's distinct markings of ochre and brick tipped leaves. Glowing grey morning, peppered with sun, wiping the days slate clean with brisk evenings and cool nights. The inner chill beginning to settle in, no refuge from it's impending progression of winter, only to be lifted again come a new season of warmth.
I can smell tonight. Battling chronic allergies stripping this ability, but tonight I can smell. Nostrils filling up with nostalgic poison. Flashbacks of memories almost crippling in their rapid pace. Close to paralyzed from sensory overload, jaw tightening while those small lumps form at the back of the throat where the tongue meets, forming like a terminal cancer. Enveloped in the moment, taken by smell, this is a form of time travel I'm much familiar with.
A smell I will forever link to the pacific north west fall and winter. Sweet, piney, dewey, musky and invigorating. In this smell I am brought back to that small two-bedroom apartment where we started life anew. Wandering the nights to that corner pub, piggy-backs home, falling into that neighbors yard, kissing for the first time. We had been inseparable. New job, new classes, new video work, I was your muse and you my rock. You were different then, we were. This impending season, sending me though time, surprising me with the open door as the air fills with memory. Not a safe place for progression from the past.
