time

I often find myself baffled by the concept of time. It's incredible-- the fact that days are designated and mechanic and yet, they never quite feel the same. As little sense as this may make, I realize that it is not uncharacteristic of me to say something to the effect of, 'it seems like we just got here, and yet I feel like we have been here forever.' Some days feel like minutes and others drag for months.

But some days, on a very rare and sacred occasion, we get a day that feels as if we have never really lived a day of our life until that moment. Perhaps that is what it feels like when you're head over heels in love. I sure hope so.

imagine with me now.

it is a tiny colorful coastal town-- a colonial relic with cobblestone alleys that weave uphill and down in mindless, near chaotic ways. The stone-faced skeletons of buildings and tropic colored houses peeling to reveal the palette of paintings past-- a monument to time in itself.
oceans and mountains cross paths this day. your wheels kick up the dust and you discover your joyous self in passing reflective ponds. pedaling to catch the sunset.

Atop the hill overlooking the town below, sunshine fingers and van Gogh clouds stretching to the seas, the facade of a 14th century stone church building bursting in sunset flames. the people gathered on the steps, eyes wide and hearts anticipant. Conversations with strangers about the dreams that constitute our lives-- some so simple seeming, others one step from fiction. The crispness of dusk gives way to steps downward into the town, passing horse carts and pausing on someone's doorstep to lean back, watch the passerby and listen to the lonely love ballads of a man seated on his own front stoop. and there is nothing more pressing to do than to sit there and join in the dreaming.

And, it's like you've never. lived. until. this. very. day.