Wednesday, April 28, 2010

wyebridge

Driving north with him, driving backwards, windows down, blue breeze blowing, pressing play on my favourite song at my favourite part of the drive (the moment we pull off the highway and I realize we are suddenly the only car following this curving road back to his once home), swallowed up in green, the familiar dotting of houses, the one with rotating stuffed animals outside, pulling into a driveway still marked by a basketball net, stepping out of the van into air that is always cleaner and cooler 1.5 hours outside of the city, stepping into the house he grew up in and into his mom’s open arms.

Almost two years since I last took this drive, I still find myself replaying it on days like today where everything feels on the brink of springsummer because this drive and that one tiny town he once called home and what it felt like to be twenty-two and in love are forever springsummer in my mind.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

beautiful, poetic

suzy said...

wow...i love your blog. just stumbled across it. you're a beautiful writer.

Wendy said...

so simple yet stunningly beautiful.

Karen Whittal said...

Found your blog with "next Blog" really enjoyed it.