Home is the smell of morning coffee. Slow mornings. Springs spent playing in the dirt, orange blossoms, the sound of bees, fresh cut grass, the winds shift, summer storms, creosote, wet earth, fall nights around a campfire of mesquite, warm spiced cider to warm your mitts, winter arrives, sugary cookies baking in the next room, warm and gooey, cinnamon, berries, mistletoe, then suddenly, a new year.
Home is rooted in scent.
I’ve curated a collection of scents from my memories here in the Sonoran Desert. I’ve always had a penchant for finding the things that remind me of, and all at once become, home.
Find us and share your memories: @cicadagoods