“When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of?"

“When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?"
Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit. I smell hot bread baking. I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf. I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. 
"I don't smell anything," she said.” 
― George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

My answer would be slightly different than Arya's, but it is fascinating how the smell can bring memories back in such a vivid way. For me the smell of candles brings memories of nights in a house by the sea...both cold and warm, winter and summer evenings, strangely similar, endlessly long...the sensation of hot wax on my fingertips and the little wax creations that I used to make...The smell of candles burning...being lulled to sleep by the sound of waves...the pitch dark and the conspicuous silence of an old forest. Promises of strange secrets in soft whisper of the wind outside. .The smell of candles burning... old churches and almost forgotten prayers that sound like songs, with rhythm that seems to echo from the earth...the distinct smell of stone...The smell of candles burning....attempting to light a fire somewhere in the mountains...the loud sound of women's laugh.

Moj odgovor bio bi malo drukčiji nego onaj Arye, ali je stvarno zanimljivo kako miris može tako živo vratiti uspomene ...Mene miris svijeća podsjeća na noći u kući uz more, hladne i tople večeri, zimske i ljetne, začuđujuće slične i beskrajno duge...osjećaj vrućeg voska na vrhovima prstiju i male kreacije od voska koje sam pravila...Miris svijeća koje gore...tonem u san uz zvuk valova...mrkli mrak i sumljiva tišina stare šume. Obećanja neobičnih tajni u tihom šaptu vjetra vani...Miris svijeća koje gore...stare crkvice i skoro zaboravljene molitve koje zvuče kao pjesme, sa ritmom koji kao da izvire iz zemlje...nezamjenjiv miris kamena...Miris svijeća koje gore...pokušaj paljenja vatre negdje u planini...glasni zvuk ženskog smijeha.