When I Catch a Whiff of Sassafras

Childhood memories on a humid evening breeze.

Photo by Kaitlan Balsam on Unsplash

It is not yet dusk. My newborn is snuggled tight against my chest, teetering on the edge of drowsiness in a stretchy infant carrier. The thick, still humidity of a July evening is heavy on my lungs, wrapping around me like the bands of fabric tying my son against my heart. I’m putting one foot in front of the other up the cracked…