My great aunt knit woolen afghan blankets. Her husband worked at the fabric mill and would bring the wool home to her so she could make these colorful blankets for the family.

I remember the smell of this one particular afghan she had. It was passed down to my grandmother, who passed it on to my mother. It’s old, and doesn’t look particularly nice, but the smell is divine.

I loved wrapping myself in the blanket when I’d go to my grandmother’s house. The smell of the blanket would come near my nose and at that moment I always felt comforted. I felt safe and relaxed. I could spend hours wrapped in that blanket.

My mom has knitted other afghans over the years, but she’s used mostly acrylic yarn. They are beautiful afghans, but they don’t have the smell of the wool that I love so much. To this day when I smell wool, it takes me back to my grandmother’s house and wrapping myself in that blanket.

If the scent had a sound, what would it be? A soft, peaceful sound.

If the scent had a color, what would it be? Patina, that look that appears as a green or brown film on the surface of bronze when it oxidizes.

If the scent had a texture, what would it be? The feel of tweed; rough, but a little soft, open, flexible texture.

If the scent could give you advice, what would it tell you? You’re fine. Don’t worry so much.