Slowing down

[cdwangs]

Yesterday I took the long way home. Choosing the curvy little back road is something I don't do often. I started down the initial long stretch leading away from the highway and stepped into a different world. Ahh! How fast spring has come! What a few short weeks ago were lifeless branches amidst bitter cold winds are now happy explosions of green and warm sunshine on my face. The familiar, but distant smell of freshly tilled soil turned my thoughts back to life with my grandparents. Thoughts of gardens full of plants raised with love and care, of afternoons spent snapping green beans and swapping stories of misspent youth, of trips to the river in quest of trout, of dancing and singing and making music into the wee hours. It's funny, but the sense of smell really is the one most closely tied to our memories. As I continued to drive down the little road with it's ivy-covered banks, I realized it wasn't just my nose that was enjoying what spring had to offer. With no traffic to speak of, there was almost no noise to mask that of the birds which were out playing in the weather.

I realized somewhere, driving down that road how much I let life flow over me, around me, barely noticing it's passage. I let things slip by, I think, that I should not. Time carries past memories that I would take with me, had I the chance again to grasp them. I'm painfully aware of how little attention I pay to things. Even though to most people my life must seem very simple, I still somehow manage to see so little of what there is to be cherished until it is too late.