Looking, Finding

Then

An April shower dotted the ground with a layer of moisture. Spring was stretching, waking up then. The grass, finally green for the first time in months, and, now, nearly greener than green, had just been cut earlier that day for the first time since the previous autumn. In the sneaking-in shadows of the evening, wet grass clippings stuck to the concrete as if they had been placed then glued there. The smell of the rain blended together with the sweet scent of newly mown grass, the earthy aroma of the ground and the rising humidity in the air to dance together in a sweet symphony which defined that day and framed the new season.

A way of life which had become second nature was almost over though. It would soon give way to new paths, new journeys. Goodbyes would be said, some temporary, some permanent.

I walked this familiar ground in one set direction, certain of where I needed to go, but in some yet unrealized sense headed away from some things and toward other things. With each physical step I also traveled more inward, losing myself in all that I knew at that moment. These things I knew then were all that seemed to matter, even though some of what tossed around in my head collided with a few things tossing around in my heart and most all of these things jumbled together made no sense no matter how much thought was devoted to each specific thing. My steps carried me to a room, quiet and isolated, where I was all alone.

That song had floated around before sticking itself in my head, replaying without effort more often than I wished and sometimes when I didn’t want to hear it at all. Sensing change ahead, I turned on that song. I turned it loud. I played it over and over. I thought about the people and things I knew and how any resolution with some of them did not seem like it could be left satisfactorily, either for them or for me or for both of us. Young and yearning, spinning and churning, thinking, knowing I knew what was best for the moment, not yet comprehending the vast stretch of time that was before me I played that song over and over. I thought of people in my life and wondered what, if anything, they wanted from me, what they expected from me then I thought about the things I wanted and expected from them. All that remained for me to do was wonder where these new paths, these new journeys would take each of us.

Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find

Eventually, I stopped playing the song and returned myself to that late April evening when, right as rain, I knew the answers even if I didn’t want to reach deep down inside and accept each one. That was me then, in front of the future, my feet dangling over the edge, waiting, hoping, wondering what was to come.

Now

An August rain shower drives by quickly, a bit of wind, rapid-fire lightning strikes and rumbles of thunder all packaged into a transitory dark pillow of clouds. Making itself comfortable, summer has made a home. The grass, withering from the seasonal heat, is crunchy, turned into a faded green, an exact color never found on a painter’s palette but maybe one discovered in the details of an old faded, forgotten photograph. The smells of a parched earth teased by the wetness of a summer shower rise up from the ground invisible next to the dancing steam the rain and heat produce like some mid-summer daydream in the middle of reality.

It is a place where contentment found its bearings and settled for a residency. Along the way were a few twists and turns but mostly this path has been an incredible passage, one worth any bumps in the road along the way.

Here, and, in this direction is the ground I now walk. After all the years though, and, despite a sure footing, I find I still walk away from some things and toward other things. The solitary stillness of a moment finds me then immerses me in all I have come to know. The things that have come to matter, these things I have come to know, unflinchingly matter, unfailingly know, in my heart and in my head have become clearer along this path. This journey, with its mileage and the time expended from one place then to this place now have brought the trip’s scenery into a splendidly brilliant focus. Now and again though the pace of my steps slow and I go back to that other time, that other place.

The song sprung on me unexpectedly, out of the misty, foggy haze of days gone by. Once inside my head though it was like a friend from the old days, familiar, comfortable. Sensing how I needed to hear that song, I turned it on. After it played, I played it again, this time louder than before and when it finished, I played it again and then again. Brave and burning, whirling and turning, thinking, knowing somewhere rested moments hidden in the clouds of memory in some time and place nestled in the vast space of passage now behind me. I tried to look back with the eyes I had then, searching for the wants, the needs that were so definite then but soon enough I discovered those things impossible now to grasp. I then thought about that time, that place and how I once inhabited a space there. I thought of those I knew then and wondered about all the expectations shared between us. I wondered about the paths and journeys all of us had traveled from that time forward to now.

Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find

I let the song fade into quiet and discovered August, and my world, again; there I found them just where I had left them earlier and just like they were before my brief escape, lived-in and as certain as certain can be. And, here I am now, my feet planted in yesterday’s future, looking back over time marveling at the trip thus far but still waiting, still hoping, still wondering at what is to come.