Whispering Pines

Bloganuary prompt for day #16 : Do you have a memory that’s linked to smell?

The smell of pine trees bring forth a flood of pleasant memories from my past. Not the scented pinecones smelt at Christmas. The smell of Spruce and Ponderous pines reaching towards the sky in the mountains of Colorado.

My adoptive dad fought for my adoption as my adoptive mother did not want to adopt me. This followed through my childhood and beyond. I was daddy’s girl. Once a year we would go on a week long camping trip for fishing. My dad taught me how to watch the shy brook trout in the rivers. I learned to fish in the meadow lakes. Walked the pathways and deer trails learning how not get lost and to find my way back to camp. Watching wildlife and learning how they travel and what their tracks looked like. Enjoying the beauty of wildflowers and butterflies.

The once a year camping trips were a special time of my dad sharing the knowledge of the forest and those who occupied it. It was also the short time of year, I was away from my mother. My mother was always fishing and the children were to stay away and not disturb. Hence, freedom to explore and spent some precious time with our dad. My dad worked long hours, and often away from home. The week of being together without the interference of work was special.

The whispering pines also bring back memories during my adult life. Friends camping and horseback riding in the mountains. The knowledge I gained from my dad was most helpful on these trips. Most of those friends are gone now. And I am far from the mountains I grew up and lived near most of my life.

The smell of the whispering pines returns me home, at least in my heart and mind.



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