Ah, how to remember back to those magical, mystical times of yore. They say youth is wasted on the young, and there is a certain truth to that. But memories are precious, locked in sepia, branded to our souls, such things become to the alchemist in us all -- pure gold. When I think back at all the utter foolishness, I no longer frown and shake my head, but smile and laugh at the hubris. Loved it, Ken. Cheers! Rob
It is old age that makes an end to youth yet the mind stays young until death. I once entered my Grandmothers room after she had passed away. The impression was as if time had stopped. Sunlight through a foggy glass window. Family pictures on the wall and the bed made neat and clean. Her Bible resting on the bed. These fragments I have shored as well. Until I see her in hevan I will carry these memories with me.Great read. Thanks
Ah, how to remember back to those magical, mystical times of yore. They say youth is wasted on the young, and there is a certain truth to that. But memories are precious, locked in sepia, branded to our souls, such things become to the alchemist in us all -- pure gold. When I think back at all the utter foolishness, I no longer frown and shake my head, but smile and laugh at the hubris. Loved it, Ken. Cheers! Rob
Those would be high school memories? Nice mystery to it - can picture a fall day maybe in a library setting... studying - maybe not studying... maybe supposed to be studying... and the shadows part - well, I can just imagine...
'I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well. Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience'
Thoreau.
For all those who .. more..