Today I am Writing: On the Unfolding

On Saturday of this weekend past, I looked at my mighty list of to-do. Then I got in my car and drove out to the country.

I found there summer sunshine.

A man with perennial joy.

A young girl with long-eyed longing for life.

And fall-turning leaves.

I also found cucumbers and watermelons and tomatoes, lying right next to the butternut squash.

I thought about the seasons of life, the crease along which they overlap. I tend to wanting to turn the page to the next, but this time I bought strawberries, a pumpkin, and a mum.

I wandered through roads bastioned with high corn. I drank sun leaking through trees. I watched words wave before my eyes until they wed themselves as one. I tasted nostalgia on my tongue.

And I remembered: there is beauty in the moment unfolding, where time is not quite gone, and time is almost here.