Remembering
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Is it the season that brings all the memories to the surface or would they rise up anyway? I am not entirely sure but I know this; one day it is a tiny blur, a fragment of remembering and the next day it is as bright as anything.
Right there, in front of you.
Today, i remember this. I remember travelling with Trevor when we were in our first years together (1992). We took our meager savings and got into my crookedy old car and drove. We drove all over the country, as far as our money would take us, for we had time. We had time to stop and watch a storm roll in, time for sitting in a local small town bar in everywhereville and have a beer. We found the time to build camp every night and make a fire and play cards and lay together and laugh. We had time to write little postcards to each other and send them on ahead to greet us when we arrived.
I remember Iowa. I remember the slow, endless fields. I remember the way the corn leaned and the grasses tipped and the way the clouds moved like phantoms across the landscape.
I remember the way he stood there, all free and pleased and strong. We spent the day looking for birds in the grassland and there was a storm rolling in and we were so happy and it all felt so endless.
Today, i see that it is not endless; that life moves like fire upon the grassland, like clouds flying across the landscape. That these moments are fierce and few and always worth remembering.
Life is a fierce and precious thing.
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