A Familiar Phenomenon

Ones sense of smell, in a way, is a phenomenon.  Its adept ability to instill memories defies logic.  I remember waking up, choking on the smell of cigarette smoke as it lingered the downstairs bedroom.  The smell was embedded in everything.  I knew that because all too often I found myself using the blankets as a gas mask.  That smell never left my mind.  It wasn't the only smell, however, to leave me with vivid memories of my childhood. 

Around midday I could be found on the other side of the white fence.  Knee-high bushes stood on either side of the rocky path. The path was not full of pebbles, or sand, or even dirt, it was more of a composition of dirt and palm-sized rocks.  My direction of travel was rarely determined, as I often deviated from the man made paths.  I wandered; in hopes to find a new path - or maybe I was trying to get lost.  Regardless, blackberry bushes were in abundance.  They were the one thing that I could never seem to get away from.  To this day, I can not describe the aroma of the area to which I so often fled. The sun was white hot; it seemed to immunize my sense of smell.  Perhaps that is what instills this memory so vivid in my mind - the smell of nothingness.