Sense Memory

I love, love, LOVE the fall weather hitting Vermont right now. It's like a cold and clear breath of life that takes your heart in its grip and transports you to worlds of memories long forgotten yet still reminisced about. Upon each stinging breeze rides an image of crinkling leaves, the smell of apple cores and pumpkin spice, or the scratchy feel of a wool scarf on the skin. The chill which takes root in the feet and travels up each individual vertebrae to each follicle of hair holds a physical bond to day trips through an enchanted forest and afternoons spent on train tracks. The taste of dust and the feel of grit between teeth is a flash back to dirt roads and the hidden groves to which they lead.

Each memory dances with the senses in a waltz that began at birth. Each physical presence individually linked to an emotion draws me back yet pulls me forward at the same time. While I muse over the events and the feelings of the past, I am still pushed forward by a thirst for more. I long for more emotion, more feeling, more of the "breath life," for the essence that makes me utterly human. We long for the memories in life because that is what draws us forward, the longing and desire for future memories. We beg for new smells, feelings, and images that will give us retrospect to the events of our past and bring our lives in a circle.

Stepping from the front door, the fall's evening zephyr energizes my lungs and my body, propelling me forward into the sunset's lighted shadow. The leaves hanging stiffly from the trees' branches sway and crumple as they draw near to each other in anticipation of what is to come. Drawing my scarf closer to my throat, I walk along the broad sidewalk with heavy footfalls. The clouds above seem to sway lightly, taking in the moment below. I clutch my books to my chest and keep walking, observed and observing...