“Every hour, Robert thinks, all over the globe, an infinite number of memories disappear, whole glowing atlases dragged into graves. But during that same hour children are moving about, surveying territory that seems to them entirely new. They push back the darkness; they scatter memories behind them like bread crumbs. The world is remade.” ~ Anthony Doerr …
“How long before the eaves gave way to the sky, or the bathroom floor was jack-hammered to bone, while the trees outside were left to redirect the wind? How quickly the den must have become more kitchen and bedrooms lost their privacy. I see the books we’d packed up and moved years ago under a pile of fresh rubble,…
I once suggested she have a good cry she said “I’m afraid if I start I’ll never be able to stop”
hide and go seek in her greenhouse pots of iris and gladiola bulbs the air was thick and rich with the scent of dirt
