Yesterday as I scooted around town doing my morning errands, I kept on smelling something in the atmosphere.

The scent wasn’t constant. It came and went in pockets with the wind.

I detected the smell again after school, as I traveled from one baseball field to another with my children, who play ball on separate Little League teams.

Finally, it hit me. The air smelled like green peppers. The local farmers must be planting the crop in nearby fields.

I’m used to smelling green peppers more toward the end of summer when they are harvested and processed at a local plant near where I used to pay my property taxes before our town hall changed location.

But this is the first time I have gotten a whiff of the vegetables during planting season.

It’s a good smell – one I point out to the kids when it’s strong.

“It smells like home,” I tell them, hoping that they take in a deep breath of the fragrant air.

I figure if they ever get homesick on their journey in life, they can pick up some green peppers at the grocery store, put them in a bowl on their kitchen counter and let the smell give them some comfort.



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