I walked back home from the downtown YMCA, through Pike Place market, and noticed that at this time of year, Seattle smells like roasting coffee, pot smoke, and fall leaves. Hershey, PA, smells like chocolate year round. The Jersey shore towns that I frequented growing up often had a salty, briny smell, when the breeze was coming on land from the ocean. Rainy season in rural Panama smells like rotten mangoes, and at the end of the growing season when they burn the cane fields, like caramelized sugar.
I wonder if part of what makes us feel at home is the familiarity of how a place smells?
What do you think? Does the place where you live have a distinctive smell at this, or any time of year?