The Smells of Reminiscence

While driving home yesterday, I was reminded of school days spent on the lunch time grass area where we used to look for four leaf clovers. That patch of grass was riddled with them. My record was fourteen, in one sitting. What triggered this reminiscence? I was driving, past the local community park. The car window was down and the caretaker was mowing the grass. 

I absolutely relish the smell of cut grass. It smells of a warm Autumn afternoon, the birds singing in the trees, while I sip a calming cup of tea - especially after it rains.  It is an afternoon pottering in the garden. It is school sports days and picking the freshly cut grass from the tread in my sneakers. It is the scent wafting over the front yard when my grandad mowed the grass - comforting, fresh and irristable. It is so many childhood memories conveyed in molecules drifting on the wind. Thank goodness, I am not allergic to grass pollen!

When I used to work, in the city, I drove past the Torrens Park gardens that followed the river (actually the size of  a small creek most of the time) specifically to smell the freshly cut grass. I would wind down the car window, and breathe deeply to draw in the copious amounts of air, maximizing the effect! The gardeners were diligent and regularly mowed it in sections,  so I got my fix on most days of the week.

The science nerd, in me, did some researching. Apparently the molecules, creating the smell of cut grass, are produced when the grass is actually injured. Studies have been made on other plants, such as tobacco, which undergoes a chemical change in compounds produced, when attacked by hornworm caterpillars (their saliva!). The modified compounds attract a predatory insect which attacks the larva of the caterpillars. It has been theorised that grass may produce chemicals, when it is cut, to protect itself, possibly with anti-microbial action.

What price the glorious smell of reminiscence?

I live in two conflicting worlds. The scientist in me craves information and facts. I know why the moon looks larger when near the horizon. I know why we get beautiful sunsets (the ones in Queensland after the Java volcano were the most glorious I have seen). I know why grass produces such a delightful and familiar smell. The artist in me relishes the beauty and wonder of the world's wonder - the colours, the sounds and the smells and the memories they produce. (and logically, we need to cut the grass to keep the snakes away)

For now, I will just sit back and open the door, while our neighbour mows his lawn, and smell one of my favourite aromas in creation.