Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Childhood Memory

There are moments in time that are so vivid, we can almost reach out and touch them.

I am 4.

I am standing in between a pair of sheets drying on the line. Through the gap in the sheets, the ellipse of sky above me is pale blue and filled with puffy, lake-born clouds, scudding by on the Northern summer breeze. I breathe in the scent of Tide and cotton, but there is also the sharper smells of earth and grass.

In my cloak of white, my fortress of fiber,

I am invisible. I am safe.

It is a moment trapped in the amber of my memory, fossilized into something gemlike.

8 comments:

FairiesNest said...

Lovely!

Saphira said...

it sounds wonderful!

tysdaddy said...

It's nice when our most vivid memories are of being safe . . .

Excellent post!

Ben & Bennie said...

I miss that smell of the sheets hanging out to dry. Even better was the first night's sleep on them with the fresh smells of the outdoors on them.

flutter said...

you are also beautiful

Chanda (aka Bea) said...

This was just lovely! I could almost smell the Tide and fresh air, and image of a fossilized memories is perfect.

bandick said...

Short and sweet. Well written -- you've transported me to your fortress of fiber.

Maggie, Dammit said...

Ooooh, I love this.

I can hear the sheets snapping.

Nice.