Sometimes I need the reminder.
It’s hard to condense memories. Easier to blur the bad ones. Difficult to recall the faded.
I’ve felt poetic lately, but not in any normal sense. Just noticing little things that I’d forgotten about. It’s amazing what you see when you open your eyes.
This has been one of the most idyllically odd summers that I can remember. Using the heater in the morning, wearing long pants in August, my lack of mosquito bites. And the sky… I don’t mean to sound all hippie and nature loving, but the sky has been amazing. That perfect shade of blue, huge puffy clouds to distract me on my drive home. I find myself picking out shapes and designs in them – animals or furniture or sometimes letters. I notice the way the wind thins the edges or how they pile up before a storm. It’s like I’ve rediscovered something from my lost childhood. Back when we’d spend hours in the grass, trying to outdo each other by finding the most obscene shape. Now, they only mesmerize me with some sort of buoyant wistfulness.
It’s been a long time since I’ve looked up.
Not registered?
Create an account