memories

weekly photo challenge: local

rockymountains

Within the local Rocky Mountains, memories of my childhood slumber.  A drive from eastern Colorado to the western slope on Interstate 70 will awaken memories of Sunday drives over the Rockies’s treacherous passes made even more perilous with my parents in front speaking with each other and every so often to one of us four children in the back…in sign language…which requires, far way too many moments, eyes diverted from the narrow and curved roadways bordered by sudden falloffs that disappeared into deep valleys.   Yet, again and again my heart was captured and my anxiety abated by the beauty of nature forever changing within the movement of days and seasons.

springtime dandelions

 

…from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more immaterial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.*

 

dandelionsyellowandpurple 3

dandelionsyellowandpurple 4

dandelionsyellowandpurple 1

dandelionsyellowandpurple 2

*cited:

In Search of Lost Time

Vol I

Swann’s Way

pp 59-60

Marcel Proust

Trans: C.K. Scott Moncrieff