Saturday, May 19, 2012

verdant






I grew up along the Whetstone Brook, named for the flat stones traditionally used to sharpen knives and blades that line its banks. Today I walked down through the woods below our house to the section of mossy, dappled, verdant, and stone-flecked bank where I spent many hours of my childhood and later, adolescence. I poked and prodded, sat and listened, and felt the intoxication of my adolescent hormonal cocktail return; all the vividness, tenderness, presence, sensitivity, and flair for drama that those years contain has come back to me in this liminal, pre-birth state of being. Here's to savoring every minute of it.