“This is the place of places and and it is here.”
“Therefore, the places in which we have experienced daydreaming reconstitute themselves in a new daydream, and it is because our memories of former dwelling-places are relived as day-dreams that these dwelling-places of the past remain in us for all time.”
― Gaston Bachelard
(the first “hummer” of the season is back home / Julie Cook / 2015)
When life has been demanding and there seems to be no time to self. . .
No time for. . .
savoring. . .
No moments of a luxuriously exhaled Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. . .
It is at just that precise moment. . .that single moment between breaking apart and holding on. . .
when eyes have glazed over,
nerves are at their rawest
and stress is out the roof. .
At that very and utter almost unbearable, catastrophic, breaking moment,
it is then. . .that it happens. . .
The familiar, the comforting, the nostalgic slips gently back into place. . .
An old familiar friend returns.
You find that long forgotten item of fuzzy feelings and internal warmth.
Happy loving memories come flooding to the forefront of the heart.
It is at that single miraculously wonderful moment that suddenly. . .all is once again,
right with the world. . .and you find that you can hang on one more day. . .
(foraging cardinal / Julie Cook / 2015)
(a tufted titmouse enrobed within the new spring foliage / Julie Cook /2105)