The Sweet Smell of School

The air smells like linseed oil on redwood getting ready for the early snow storm and yeast foam on Oktoberfest beer. It’s the time of year when the sun sets before it’s ready to say goodnight so it lingers on the East mountains until the very last minute until it’s past time to relent and say goodbye to the valley. It’s September, when sweat drenched kids start to smell like new corduroy and leather shoes and waddle to school with over sized backpacks filled with nothing. I braked for a red-flashing sign this week as the summer squash bus spewed sixth-graders and their siblings; then I took a deliberate breath to see if it smelled like rotting leaves yet. Soon, I suppose, but the Indian summer may linger a while longer until quaking aspen begin to change from green to lemon yellow and the backpacks start to bulge with new Scholastic books, Elmer’s glue and rotten apples.