For me, it's the smell of cherry jam and fresh earth after the rain. I grew up among the garden, dust, wooden benches and warm palms. My entire childhood is grandmother's songs and warm milk in an enamel mug. It's a creaking swing and laughter that echoes through the yard.
And now, when I close my eyes, I hear that laughter. There is tenderness in every memory that still holds me. I understand why sometimes I want to go back to childhood - because everything is still pure there. Without expectations, without fears, without falsehood. There you are real. And sometimes I try to create such moments for my son.
Maybe one day he will also remember the smell of cherries and smile.