My son lived in Portland, Oregon from 2018 to 2019. In the spring of 2018, my husband and I, along with our two daughters and their husbands, planned a vacation to meet our son in Portland before traveling to Seaside and Cannon Beach.
It was lovely to be there where there was already abundant
green as opposed to the stark white and brown Wisconsin landscape we had
temporarily left behind. As we walked along a Portland street on our way to a
brew pub, we passed a man mowing a lawn. Thus began a conversation about the best
smells of summer. Freshly cut grass ranked number one among our group, with
camp fire a close second.
I wondered if these smells evoked long summer days playing
in the backyard with cousins, aunts, uncles and friends – and my husband and I…
grass clippings sticking to bare feet and sweaty legs as they built forts,
wrestled or dreamed on that blanket of green. We’d often finish those days with
a backyard bonfire, sometimes making ‘pudgy pies’ in small iron molds with long
handles over the fire for dinner. Other nights, we’d go outside after dinner
and roast marshmallows for s’mores. Our son loved to start his marshmallows
afire, blowing them out like torches once a crispy black crust had formed on
the outside. Our daughters, more discerning, would slow-roast theirs along the
ember edges of the fire, rotating the stick-speared sweets until they turned a
delicate toasty brown. This technique resulted in a marshmallow melted all the
way through – gooey perfection.
I never asked if those memories played a part in their votes
for best smells of summer, but I know for me they did.
