Shooter on the Grassy Knoll

The smell of freshly cut grass. Again in Levallois, the only place in Paris so far that I have been able to conjure up the same memories twice from the exact same spot. It reminds me of my childhood. My brother's little league baseball games, and betting horses with my Grandpa at Santa Anita Race track. My soccer games on Sundays and running in the sprinklers naked at my neighbors house in Arcadia. All very young and very vivid memories. Innocent memories too, sans the Race Track, but hey, horce racing is legal and I always looked a bit older even at the age of 10.
Its nice though. Freshly cut grass. So I started thinking...

What is it about certains smells at any age that can bring us back to such finite moments in our lives? And why is it that the memories we make now seem so few and far between as opposed to the many we made when we were younger? Is it because we made more memories then or just that we are adults now and dont have the time to make and remember new ones?

Obviously living abroad has sparked my memory fuse way more than it had to when I was living in SF. Here in Paris all I have is memories. My life is so hush here even though I feel like im constantly talking. I feel like I go through a day having so many conversations even though I maybe just have a handful. I talk to myself constantly(yes in my head, not in a turrets turrets turrets sort of way) and needlesstosay, yes we are smarter and better looking than you.