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They say that smell (and, by association, taste) can be one of the strongest triggers for memories for humans. I’d tend to agree – if I dip pretzels in apple juice, I’m greeted with a flood of memories of after-school snacks with Mom … and if I catch a whiff of fixer or stop bath, I’m instantly transported back to days spent at the RIT darkrooms with my Dad, developing black and white photos and learning about printing.

But today, I found that music – even just remembering an artist or a song – can have the same effect. While loading up my iPod for an upcoming business trip, I took a quick tour through my music archives, searching for past favorites to enjoy while airborne. What I found, though, was a lot more than just music…

To start, I scrolled past a copy of Falling Into Place by the Candy Butchers. And I immediately remembered walking through the streets of Kowloon, just outside of Hong Kong, with my brother Andy. While Dad lectured, we explored the narrow market streets singing out loud what lines we could remember from the song “All I Have”.

Then, I saw a handful of albums from The Counting Crows, and thought about a photography workshop that Kelly and I attended in the Adirondacks. The instructor had all sorts of music, but when he found out we liked the Crows, he pretty much stuck to their CDs all weekend. We got plenty of exposure to Hard Candy and This Desert Life while heading to shooting locations in his Pathfinder!

After a few more minutes, I started finding tracks from the mix CD I made for Kelly and my first date. And as I continued to explore, other songs reminded me of times we’ve spent together, parties we’ve thrown, trips we’ve taken and conversations we’ve had.

The memories just kept on coming: An album from Scott Thomas reminded me of car trips with my great friend Andy, canvassing New York state in his Dodge Omni. A disc by Underworld took me back to trips to Wegmans and the ambulance base with my roommate Brett and his Taurus SHO. The soundtrack to the movie Bringing out the Dead? Ambulance shifts and red-runs to the tune of TB Sheets by Van Morrison. The Hot Java Jazz CD from Starbucks? Rainy afternoons spent drinking tea with my roommate Mel and talking about – well, just about anything.

I could go on. In fact, I could probably come up with some kind of memory to go with just about every album on my hard drive. And knowing we’re capable of so many wonderful memories? That’s a true blessing.