fleeting memory and being thankful

It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. And between working and prepping for tomorrow's dinner, I managed to find 40 minutes to take my walk. I always get inspired to write when I am out on my jaunts. Usually I get a wonderful idea and words fill my mind, sentences form in my head, and... by the end of the walk I have lost most of it.

But tonight I held on to a little bit. 

I'm not sure what it was about tonight's walk. Maybe the time of year that gives me a very low sun and coolness, but I was filled with feeling this evening. Memories... nothing specific. I have a memory that floats through my mind sometimes which has no form. It has no face, no action. It is simply a memory of something that only comes to me in the faintest thoughts upon the breeze. A scent usually allows this memory to emerge. Tonight, the sight of the dancing limbs in the park, in one specific area, brought it on strong. This memory, if that's what it is, seems to be from childhood and the only picture I have in my mind is (sometimes) a large backyard backed completely by thick trees. There is a clothes line as well, filled with clothes... sometimes not. That is all. But the feeling is what is important. The feeling is of a place that made me very happy. A home.

Sometimes I wonder if this memory is even from my life, for I can not see it clearly enough to know for sure. I can not focus on it too long, as it will quickly fade from my mind's eye. Tonight, I tried to hold on to the memory as long as I could. But as the sun went lower behind the horizon, the memory faded. The fleeting feeling was gone. And all I could do was smile for having experienced all of it once again.