july

 

 

 

 

 

there were those hot sticky nights
picnics by flashlight on the dewey grass
waiting for the fireworks
we chased fireflies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in her house

 

 

 

 

 

“Vague memories hang about the mind like cobwebs”

~ George Eliot

 

 

 

 

 

 

drive in

 

 

 

 

summer nights
we’d pile in the back of dad’s station wagon
in our pajamas
equipped with blankets, pillows and paper bags full of junk food
and fall asleep halfway through the feature

 

 

 

 

 

 

boyhood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Will the freshness, lightheartedness, the need for love, and strength of faith which you have in childhood ever return? What better time than when the two best virtues — innocent joy and the boundless desire for love — were the only motives in life?”

Leo Tolstoy

 

 

 

 

 

 

(a scan of a very old photo)

 

the way home

 

 

 

 

 

“But every memory is turned over and over again, every word, however chance, written in the heart in the hope that memory will fulfill itself, and become flesh, and that the wanderers will find a way home, and the perished, whose lack we always feel, will step through the door finally and stroke our hair with dreaming, habitual fondness, not having meant to keep us waiting long.”

 

 

~ Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping