I was maybe four, sitting on our front step in Tulsa after a summer storm. The concrete was steaming and that wet dirt smell hit me so hard it felt like a color. I didn't know the word 'petrichor' then, but that moment is still my clearest early memory. Now every time it rains, I have to stop and just breathe it in for a second. Anyone else have a memory tied to a smell that just sticks with you?
Guess I've been wrong for years then. I just stand there breathing it in like it's some kind of earthy perfume. My whole life is a lie built on the smell of wet sidewalks.