Sonoma, an assault on my senses and I could not have been happier
Traveling to an unknown place I always try to imagine what that first glimpse will look like. I know I can’t really imagine it until it happens and then I want to try to remember that sight.
I was not expecting that surprise when I drove over the Golden Gate Bridge on our way to Sonoma. The hills were gold dotted with green organic shapes that were so scenic I couldn’t stop looking.
At first, I thought I was looking at parched earth, but it was tall grass seemingly suspended over the ground. The gold was the dryness of the meadow. The trees were nestled in the valleys so that only the tops were visible.
As we got closer to Sonoma the fields started filling with vineyards and I recognized the slight smell I remember from the vineyards in the South of France. By the time we arrived at the house my senses were saturated with the smell of rosemary, sage and the eucalyptus trees that lined the road.
I’d forgotten how connected our sense of smell is to our memories, but one whiff sent me back in time and I was in heaven.
No wonder perfumes have such a strong impact on us.
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