Like Rain

The expert memory maker

Memories are like rain. We saw a lot of rain on our Arkansas trip.

Mostly while driving. I saw too much of the butt end of a windshield wiper blade.

But memories are like rain.
It starts with droplets one by one, clearly landing - distinguishable , separate; faster and faster they pellet until you cannot see today at all.

Then swoosh – the intermittent wiper action clears the path and today

comes into focus once again.

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Sometimes you wonder why it takes so long when someone is so important to you.

Where do you sit after a long afternoon of water skiing...on the stone wall of course!

What do you see when you are sitting on the stone wall?

The Lake I lived on or should say in all summer 1966-1970

Where my brother worked, my father shared his ceramic brilliance by creating glazes,

and where I remember special one-of-a-kind collectable pottery.

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Memories are like rain.

They clear the air of all the dust and pollen so the world around you is brighter, greener, fresher. They come like a flood then trickle to an end as today

bursts forth rallying the senses to come into the moment and enjoy it’s newness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cleaned cabins at Knollwood Lodge when I was 16 and 17. Here is one cabin, the one we had - untouched by remodeling-a timecapsule of memories.
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Memories are like rain. They soak the dryness, steam the pavement,

and plump the landscape of all that happens today.

They make provision for tomorrow like the buds of today that are tomorrow’s flowers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The greatest joy of my teen years was centered around my horse, thoroughbred racers, and the early mornings at the track.

Lookout Point - where you make-out with your boyfriend or make-up your

dreams of the future, overlooking Hot Springs from West Mountain.

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Memories are like rain.

Sometimes they come like a surprise shower in the middle of a sunny day.

Sometimes there are signs that gradually awaken you to a coming cloudburst

like birds taking shelter in their nests,

or a change in the wind or the sudden shadowing of the sun.
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A fresh drink of water from heaven. First place I hit in town after a semester away at college.

So that’s what the trip was about for me. Memories for my mother to share with her friend, memories for me to share with my daughter and memories for my daughter to make with her daughter. We made as many memories as I recalled. Check out Christy’s blog for a day-by-day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Mom and Anne Kastner - friends for 40 years.

Making memories as Emma walks with G-ma to Anne's cabin.

Making memories with Grandma on West Mountain overlooking the whole city.