The scent of my great grandmother's 1987 chevy S 10
Memories of cattle eating crab apples from my hands
Covey of quail scurrying up from wild plumb thickets
The cold salt water of the north fork of the red river that stained my white clothes a ruddy brown swimming as a boy
Narrowly dodging a rattlesnake warming itself against the moss covered quartz boulders half way up grandad's mountain
My grandfather's newly made deer friends
The taste of fresh cold water from our well
The ringing in my ear and smell of gunpowder after trying out the old Turk Mauser
Sandy soil giving way to my boot
The fallen windmill slowly turning and creaking in the breeze
Picking grass burrs from between the pads of Luna's paws
The prick of blood at the points of cotton seeds in hand
Scent of stale vanilla and dust in the Prince Albert crimp cut long burning smoking tobacco jars that my great grandfather smoked and where I stored the money earned picking vegetables and selling them in town.