Unless you have no soul, you can search back in your memories and make a list of events that resonate because of the smells involved. Just like sounds or sights or textures, there are those certain recollections that are triggered by smells.
You've probably got one of a crisp winter day, coming in from the snow to a house redolent with the aromas of a turkey dinner being prepared. Or maybe there was that visit to grandma's house with the first whiff on entry of fresh baked cookies. There was a spot when you turned the corner off a special highway and got the first breeze off the lake or ocean. That special girl's perfume might be in the list as well.
I remember the first Monday morning in pilot training when I stepped out the BOQ door and got the breeze laden with JP-4 fumes off the flightline as a 100 T-37s and T-38s were springing to life for the first sorties of the day. I still love that smell. I would know blindfolded where I was if you put me in an airplane and opened the cabin door in Thailand. I still hate that one. It's about the smells.
And then there is the smell of victory:
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