It feels like spring today. I'm wearing a tank top as I walk back from the corner store, apples etc. in my shopping bag. I pass a girl wearing a heavy coat and boots. Maybe she didn't get the spring memo. Maybe my open-windows-sunlight-streaming made me misread it.
Taking the stairs in my apartment building two-at-a-time, I hear a sound. I wait for it to happen again. When it doesn't, I am dismayed until I realize I thought I was hearing the muffled foghorns that drift in pairs up from the Puget Sound and I am struck with a feeling like sea sickness - have to stand for a moment on the landing and get my bearings (DC not state) - and the sea sickness is replaced with homesickness and then I wonder if home is just a place where our expectations are always met and muffled foghorns always happen in twos?
4 comments:
I know what you mean. I do something similar with the smell of cinnamon rasin toast in the morning. If anyone in our building is making cinnamon-y breakfast food it always makes me think I'm in my childhood bedroom, smelling the breakfast my mom made for my dad before he went to work. Then I wake up confused & have to remember where I am, trying not to crave cinnamon raisin toast.
I got the spring memo ... it completely made my week :)
I love these days where it's summer for some and winter for others. And where our youths meet our adulthoods and everything gets all mixed up.
Spring is such a mashed together tweener time.
It's funny, the things that take us by surprise as memories. I connect a lot with food...someone will put down a warm bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of me and I'm a small child all over again.
These are such gifts from the past, blessing us in the present when they arrive so unexpectedly, like a really nice letter in the mail that's been on its way for so long...
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