I'm in an uprooted time of
life. A period when everything seems in-between and wait-until and
after-this-but-before-that. It’s the
details that settle into the curves of life that I've clung to this past year.
Last summer in Houston it was the creaky front gate, the bellowing frogs in
the flowerbeds, and wafting of chlorine from the pool.
London's door plaque -- 27 -- the bakery
off the Notting Hill tube stop, the coffe cart on the corner of Bayswater and Queensway, and the wrought iron railing.
Then, this difficult winter semester in Provo. I'll remember trekking up the stairs, the tv-turned- fish tank softly glowing behind me. I'll remember my puppy calendar and the Monet poster on the overhang above my bed. I'll recall switching off weeks for the parking spot and planning Sarah's wedding on our beds.
It's been a difficult winter. But a winter for growth. A winter for a better summer.
And I'll remember the good little things.
Then, this difficult winter semester in Provo. I'll remember trekking up the stairs, the tv-turned- fish tank softly glowing behind me. I'll remember my puppy calendar and the Monet poster on the overhang above my bed. I'll recall switching off weeks for the parking spot and planning Sarah's wedding on our beds.
It's been a difficult winter. But a winter for growth. A winter for a better summer.
And I'll remember the good little things.
3 comments:
I have a feeling your Summer's gonna rise way above that difficult winter. That's just my hunch .... :)
loving this.
themestuffs.blogspot.com
This post sounds like the prologue to a fantastic novel. I think you should write it. Also, forgive me, for I have been terribly absent from this blog. For some reason, blogger wasn't letting me know you were writing over here! What a drag.
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