by Valerie Quirarte

The smell of hose water feels like summer to me. It’s warm and peaceful, with the same effect on the senses as the feeling of warm sunlight settling on the curves of your face. It starts with an almost metallic tang that’s sharp and distinct, like hot pennies or the remnant scent left on your hands after sliding them down a sun-baked stair railing. It’s followed by a faint rubbery note from the hose itself, as well as a hint of green, such as cut grass or a freshly snapped stem, carried up by the mist as it sprays into the air. When the water first bursts out, it smells warmer than it is, as if it’s been soaking in the sunlight all along, releasing a soft, tangy heat that fades as the stream runs cold.

As it pools on concrete or soaks into dry soil, the scent deepens and spreads even more so. The mineral undertone softens into something earthy and alive, which blends with the dusty sweetness of pavement and the clean, almost electric freshness of moving water. It lingers in the air in a way that feels nostalgic and tactile, like damp hands, wet sidewalks, and the echo of laughter on a hot afternoon, where the smell itself seems to carry the texture of heat breaking open into relief.

“Should we be drinking this water?” questioned my brother as I handed him the running hose after flooding my own mouth with its clear water, quickly pouring out from the spout.

“It builds your immune system,” I responded, repeating the words I remembered my dad telling me when I had asked him the same question years prior. My brother stared at me vacantly, as he clearly didn’t comprehend what that meant, and little to his knowledge, neither did I. However, we still both came to a silent agreement that it was pretty good reasoning, discarding the fact that we had no understanding of it, and resumed our joined play in the chilly, flowing water that gave the perfect balance whilst being underneath the warm, summer sun. 

My family and I had moved into our new house around a year ago by that time, and only months later, we found that one of the pipes had a gaping cut in it. We noticed that whenever we turned the water on, this area in our backyard would flood almost entirely, reaching nearly to my knees. Then the water would remain there for weeks before returning home to the soil. This spot, however small or seemingly unintriguing, became my brother’s and my favorite spot to spend most of our long hours playing as kids. We turned that shallow pool of water, resulting from the spilling pipe, into what my brother and I saw as our opportunity to fill with our wild, imaginative stories of play and endless giggles.

As time passes and I age day by day, I will inevitably forget many of these memories. Memories of my family and me splashing soapy hose water, initially meant for the car, onto each other. Memories of playing in little kiddie pools with only our imagination and each other to keep us occupied, or memories of gliding down inflated rubber waterslides to keep us cool and let out all our energy in the heat of summer.

I sit here now, at the same house, in the same backyard, smelling the raw aroma emitted from that same hose, watching quietly as the water seems almost alive, spilling across the hot pavement and soil as my mother waters her newly planted flowers of deep purple, faded pink, and vibrant yellows. I sit here, and take a deep, fresh, reminiscent breath of that familiar, peaceful, earthy hose-water scent, always taking me back to my dreamy, childhood memories filled with laughter, peace, and an overflowing sense of joy, without a droplet of worry within my grasp. I feel almost envious of that time. Although I know I can never fully return to that simple time, I will forever hold it dear to my heart.

Note: PUC’s English Department held its annual high school essay contest called Emerging Voices of the Pacific Union for students attending an SDA or junior academy in California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, and Hawaii to submit their personal stories for a PUC scholarship and cash prize. The writing prompt had students focus on a meaningful memory associated with one of the five senses. Valerie Quirarte, a senior from Pine Hills Adventist Academy was this year’s second-place winner.