I'm Thinking and I'm Trying

I'm thinking about the snow. I'm trying to decide that it doesn't depress me and I'm trying to enjoy it. I'm thinking about how when I was a child I was in love with the snow. I have journal entries from fifth grade that describe the snow as the most peaceful time of my life. I remember enjoying crazy blizzards and not being horrified to walk home from school in them. I remember the snow men, snow fights, snow forts, and playing in the Boston Commons after church. I'm trying to be in love with the world like I used to. 

Finding minutes and seconds

I wonder if the sunrise is as beautiful as I remember on those 5:00 am walks when I was fourteen. I wonder if the yellow still shines deep and the orange still cries out to be known and I bet the purple still forms in clusters. I'm pretty sure the pink bleaches out the sky and the silhouetted trees still hide within their means. I'll bet that the music that inspired me would still play as sweetly as it used to or that the air is still as cool and calm. I bet if I were home that I could come back and see my parents opening the garage for another garage sale and they would greet me with a confused smile and an odd sense of mistrust having no idea I left. 

I bet that these things are never the same.