I remember Sunday drives up the canyon, my favorite were summer and fall. I have an especially fond memory of Sardine Canyon listening to conference on Dad's transistor radio.
I can still hear the wind rustling through the quaking aspen, the quiet roar of the river that cut it's windy way down the canyon and I can still feel the quick little glimmers of sunshine that broke through the dancing leaves to kiss my skin. It is in memory of those Sunday drives that we load up our car after church on Sunday and head up the little canyon close to our home. While it didn't hold quite the magic that the drives of my youth held it held a different type of magic. For 3 solid hours my sweeties didn't fight. We were a big happy family and any moment that helps creates that is magic. Dad and the boys tossed the football back and forth, we skipped rocks and competed to see who had the strongest rock throwing arm. When finally exhausted we piled back in the van and headed back down the mountain. The kids were sad to go, but happy to have gone. It's not the big things, it's the little ones.
YES! I love and share those memories. I wonder if in trying to recreate those feelings- and when they don't quite match up- do those younger experience it like I am right then or how I did once upon a time? I think different altogether.
ReplyDeleteAs the anticipation creates the excitement it is the time and distance that polishes out the rough spots and our memories create love. If we really went back to relive the experiencees we love we would find they still didn't match up. It is the doing together, time and distance will polish it up bright and beautiful.
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