I smell like smoke. NO! I haven't been smoking, I've just been standing near a fire.
My darling decided to burn the great pile of rose bush clippings that I had made a few months ago. Let me just say, I've been asked oh so politely not to do that again.
I won't. I promise!
Anyway, today is a clear, sunny, windy and very cold day. Having this fire burning on such a winters day made me feel nostalgic. I was transported right back to the years I spent as a kid, growing up on 13 acres in the bush. Riding pushbikes. Riding motorbikes. Roaming the bush in search of some mischief to get up to.
I loved Sunday afternoons in winter out there. The trees casting long shadows early in the afternoon. There was usually the echo of a chainsaw happening somewhere on a neighbouring propery. Sometimes it was the sound of Dad using the chainsaw or even the tractor to mow the grass.
And there was always the smell of smoke. Be it from our chimney or from Dad or a neighbour burning off.
Yep, this afternoons mix of chill in the air and smell of smoke took me right back to that carefree time of my life.
It's no wonder some people live in the past.
Nostalgia is a powerful emotion.
I think I'm just going to stay there for the rest of today.
~ Ky x








