wisps of bordering seasons
Every now and then in the summer, the sun creates shadows in a certain way or a breeze runs across you the same way that it would in autumn. It happens in the dead of winter as well, where a single day is sunnier and warmer than the rest, or a certain smell of life or a green seedling emerges earlier from the frosty earth than it should. We are reminded of the sweetness of the season that lies ahead, of memories had, and of the things we look forward to experiencing on this next backdrop. How sad it is when we have reached a point in life when, for whatever reason, we know that we will not be around to see and feel what is next. These days from the future become days from the past, making us nostalgic for the seasons of lands that we must part from, and will perhaps never return to again.
There is not one exit in life, but many, and they (or perhaps their negative space, i.e. experiences) create the sole robe that we wear as walk along across this earth.
totorobaga 