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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Everyday Canvas
#829975 added October 4, 2014 at 1:56pm
Restrictions: None
Autumn: My Nose Remembers
Where I live now, fall is like any other season with a minute difference, but one sniff, and I am back at north where autumn memories are etched into my being.

Wind through the pines, and from the needles, burst the piney perfume; the same happened with the oak, maple, cherry, buttercup trees, the pungent scent of leaves decorating the ground in the backyard, and the fragrance of apples in the orchard.

Then, how can the persevering smell of burning wood from an early fire in the fireplace not evoke other memories? So I close my eyes and reminisce the mouthwatering scents of pumpkin and apple pies, and hot chocolate.

Yet, of all the delightful bouquets that my nose remembers, the fragrance from the apples, while I cut them for juicing or turned them into apple cider as I perched at the outdoor picnic table, remains the strongest.

Every autumn, I used to make gallons and gallons of apple cider and juice to be stored inside the basement freezer alongside the summer tomatoes and other vegetables. It was a job all right, but a job that rearranged my thoughts and calmed me down, almost like praying, for everything glowed with its last beauty and the most pungent and sweetest smells, as if nature's glory was closing its curtain after a fantastic final scene.

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Prompt: What smells do you connect with autumn? Write a story, a poem or blog to your heart’s content about what fall aroma tickles your fancy.

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