Places from the past have always held a potent resonance for me. Although, physically speaking, I find it easy to move on, I hold tightly to mental images of places which have been the scene of important events in my life.
Luckily, thanks to good genetics, I am in possession of a fine memory and I hope the passing years will not wreak too much damage upon it. It is my solace from a world which I often find overly-complicated and demanding. The past is my refuge and within memories I find ultimate comfort and a deep sense of well-being.
The places I recall with most fondness are not those which many would find exciting, inspirational or captivating in any instantly recognisable way. Then, perhaps it is the same for all of us. Maybe it's the very blandness or apparent innocuousness of a place that remains so very fresh in my memory - there being nothing of note to detract from the place itself.
Simple geography is my mistress. I like flat, largely unremarkable vistas. Lowlands and deserts stretching away to the horizon, taking with them any cause for articulated thought. Stillness and quiet envelope me in such places and, in pausing I am removed from time and space. I could be anywhere. I am a stranger to myself.
The place I visited today is just as unremarkable as any of those I cherish for their perfect blankness. You'll find no status architecture, nor even so much as a modestly gentrified dwelling in the immediate locality. If there is a pretty church or a row of gaily canopied shops nearby, then I was never aware of them. My destination was always the prize.
In that place, I crossed over the invisible threshold of late childhood, and began to understand what it was to be a woman. With infinite care, elements of my early adult personality were nurtured and expressed.
I remember how the moon appeared to me one night: unveiled and glowing. I walked in the damp grass, aware of its watchful presence and felt, as I so often do now, outside of myself and the confines of chronology.
For me, the past has never died. There was never any burial and history is not something to be mourned as lost forever. I keep it bright and close.
With only the briefest hesitation, I turned into the road. The years fell away and I saw that nothing had changed. The moon is now, as she was then, unveiled and glowing.
Isn't Google Street View wonderful?