The smell of long nights.

I closed up the shop today. I had been sitting inside, watching the rays of sun, shining through the prison like bars of the security door. It was the first time this year the temperature reached 70, and walking to work earlier that day, I felt that this was truly the first day of the season of long nights.

So when I walked out into warm, and the still starless evening. I stopped in the middle of the now deserted street, and took a long, deep breath through my nose. The instantly recognizable and familiar smell. The type of smell you know and love. A smell that comes back to you year after year, and marks the beginning of a special period. Stunned with nostalgia, and taking in the subtle nuances, I stood motionless, starring at the pitch black sky. The potent hint of majestic trees that surround the nearby stadium. The stadium where I spend countless hours as a kid, kicking the ball around. All the work, the wins and losses, the good times and the painful times. Something inexplicable, the special cocktail that makes up the smell of the miracle that is the long nights. I feel myself drifting back to evenings spend at the local lake. My first kiss… I can’t remember her name anymore, yet I can tell you exactly how it felt, how she smelled, even the colour of her top. The first time I drank, having a bottle of vodka all to myself, and after trying to jump out a window at 3 in the morning, ended up on the sofa where I sprayed the before mentioned vodka all over the carpet. The night I lost my virginity, coming home after walking with my girlfriend on a night that smelled just like this. All these great moments in my life, summarized in one deep breath, of a long night’s air.