In The Pines: Memories of

I miss the smell of the salt air mixed with oak and cedar, pine and earth. The sound of the thousands of leaves in the wind, applauding the changing seasons. When I stand still long enough, it feels like time halts, though colors change and the light shifts, perceptibly.

Visiting a familiar place, somewhere that has been the landscape of a large portion of your life, enables you to look into the deep rings of experience encircling memories. Over time, you see the gradual changes to the landmarks that we use to chart our path which have helped shape and define what we ultimately become. Much of this occurs when we aren't looking, of course, and is only realized later, when things start to erode, or decay and fade. When you reach back to grasp them, they are already too far gone.

Today's SONG OF THE DAY: The Smiths, "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want"