As I was hanging the washing out on the line this morning I faintly remember the distant hummm of a lawnmower near by. It didn’t register at first until I was standing in the kitchen half an hour later washing up when the smell drifted in through the window and hit me with a garden spade….
..the sweet, fresh, undeniable smell of freshly cut grass.
I stood there and closed my eyes for a few seconds and was instantly transported back to my childhood. Memories of my grandfather painstakingly cutting, rolling and spiking his perfectly manicured weed-free lawn with it’s tennis court stripes and luscious dark green colour; my father emulating him as he attempted to do the same with our ‘footie pitch’ at home – the three of us rolling around in the cuttings til we itched uncontrollably, shoving hand-fulls of the cuttings down each other’s backs til my father yelled at us to ‘pack-it-in”; coming out to play on the school playing fields during the summer after the lawnmower guy had been with his ‘ride-on’ lawnmower – lying down watching the clouds go by and inhaling the intoxicating aroma, gently lifting our spirits and rejuvinating us for afternoon lessons and me trying to emulate both my father and my grandfather on our bumpy, uneven, dog-run of a lawn whilst the girls run around the outside being chased by the dog…
They say that smell has the strongest memory and thank goodness it does for in that single moment countless happy memories came flooding back and when I finally opened my eyes I felt enlightened, uplifted and joyous ……LOL and with Tom Jones singing ‘..the green, green, grass of home’ playing over and over and over and over in my head…..
God bless you Tom!
Hi and welcome to The Scrapbooker - my name is Andrea. I get to spend my days (and sometimes my nights) crafting works of art that make people smile - I mean, how cool is that!
