Susan LaffertyOpening shades to the mysterious. One January morning.
Fog. Hiding details outside my window.
Fog. Resting in the woods. And midair.
After Christmas and into the first week of this New Year, I take time to think back. Trying to remember the ebb and flow of last year.
Remember. Somedays the forgotten pieces of life surface. In old journals. Handwritten letters. Conversations.
Pointing out one experience. Leading to memories of another.
Recalling things hidden. Lost in the pace and race of living life on this planet.
Finding stories lodged beneath the years.
Little stacks of memories. On the floor.
Newspaper clippings browned with age. Aerogramme letters, typed full-length and on the flaps. Magazine articles. Journal entries.
There’s no time to read every word.
So we glance. Skim. Scan for tidbits of life history.
And laugh over stories long forgotten.
