I sat in the back of a taxi, stuck in traffic, going over all the errands I needed to get through when I caught a scent.
The car was idling in front of the Washington Monument and someone had just cut the grass. If only I could bottle that smell… sweet and fresh as a childhood memory.
I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and remembered cartwheels on a warm summer day, a column of ants on a hot rock, collecting lady bugs in my dress pockets, cold peppermint tea in tall glass, and shouts of “Marco Polo” mingled with splashes from the pool.
And after those few blessed minutes, we moved with the traffic past that remarkable perfume with the power to make me forget about our troubled economy, negative campaigns, looming deadlines, and the many appointments I had to keep
