tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post967619231404368047..comments2024-03-28T17:30:06.439-04:00Comments on Writers Who Kill: Memory Triggers by Nancy EadyJim Jacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15090252530437277145noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-63606068754385977592019-02-26T10:28:11.413-05:002019-02-26T10:28:11.413-05:00What lovely memories all of you shared! Thank you...What lovely memories all of you shared! Thank you! Nancy Eadyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05627294530115653719noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-84839920040944460692019-02-25T14:57:34.852-05:002019-02-25T14:57:34.852-05:00What a lovely post! Scents do it for me, especiall...What a lovely post! Scents do it for me, especially the Christmas ones - pine needles and gingerbread. Shari Randallhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16425493627354028820noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-69313153469430996352019-02-25T12:38:06.099-05:002019-02-25T12:38:06.099-05:00For me, it's mostly scents that trigger memori...For me, it's mostly scents that trigger memories. The fresh smell off the ocean as the tide reaches its peak; bread baking in the oven (or even better, gingerbread!); newly mown grass; the smell of baby powder, since it means the baby has been bathed, fed and changed, and is ready for naptime--finally! KM Rockwoodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03973749764907859829noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-81664334704117415622019-02-25T12:25:02.108-05:002019-02-25T12:25:02.108-05:00Like Jim mentioned, I love the sound of spring pee...<br />Like Jim mentioned, I love the sound of spring peepers at night. Being a little further north than you, the flowers are not out yet and I haven't noticed buds on my fruit trees either, but then I haven't had time to check them. Soon my daffodils will be up as well as other early perennials. I look forward to it. Soon my lilacs will be blooming, too. I have quite a few lilac bushes. And soon I will have to get my lawn mower out and start mowing my lawn. It's not a riding mower but one I walk behind turning it in the correct direction. Soon I'll be busy planting my vegetable garden and some flower gardens, too, as well as doing a lot of weeding. Because of one of the worse powerful storms we've ever experienced around here, I have a lot of branches down everywhere. I was lucky I didn't loose my electricity or anything else. According to the newspaper hundreds of people were without electricity yesterday, even a local fire station that was getting hundreds of calls wanting help.Gloria Aldenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13581719606924364447noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-79295647524208067502019-02-25T09:55:52.138-05:002019-02-25T09:55:52.138-05:00The smell of lilacs immediately transports me home...The smell of lilacs immediately transports me home to Pennsylvania, where every spring, my classmates, those lucky enough to have lilac bushes, would bring cuttings into school and church. Heavenly fragrance for sure.Grace Toppinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10291304815273486038noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-74519419508951818562019-02-25T08:53:24.180-05:002019-02-25T08:53:24.180-05:00What a lovely tribute and touching post. There is ...What a lovely tribute and touching post. There is a certain scent the air gets in the fall and at no other time, almost like wine, that says winter is on the way, but the weather is still wonderful, enjoy it while you can that I miss here in Florida. I cherish it in the north country. <br /><br />Florida has an electric scent to the air when thunder storms are on the way. It's harder to describe, the air almost crackles even though the sky is blue. A phenomena I've not encountered anywhere else. <br /><br />And the sight of Queen Anne's Lace never fails to bring my mother to mind. She loved it although she called it a weed. She would always pick it and bring huge bundles home. I think it was her favorite flower, although she would name roses.Kaithttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07758348842858993203noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-21371440958694099322019-02-25T08:05:31.724-05:002019-02-25T08:05:31.724-05:00Bird calls: the song sparrow's sweet song from...Bird calls: the song sparrow's sweet song from the Cape Cod dunes where it nests, the caw of crows at 5am, the incessant cheep of the English sparrow, the house finch's happy cheeping (they're already scouting nesting locations with temps in the twenties), the cardinal's trill, the nuthatch's and chickadee's beeping. Once in a while I encounter a mockingbird, which transports me back to Georgia, where I couldn't work in the garden without mocker supervision. Seagulls when we're near open water.Margaret S. Hamiltonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07979191318652199350noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-993649290245605005.post-81510223968609086072019-02-25T06:02:53.564-05:002019-02-25T06:02:53.564-05:00I love the sound of spring peepers. They start slo...I love the sound of spring peepers. They start slow and unsteadily. Here a frog, there a frog, until they get their rhythm sorted out and it becomes everywhere a frog. FROG!<br /><br />Sometimes it is so loud we have to shut our windows to sleep.<br /><br />Then the most amazing thing happens. They all stop. At the same time. An unssen conductor pinched his fingers together and the performers simultaneously become silent.<br />Jim Jacksonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15090252530437277145noreply@blogger.com