Another missive stolen from the Bangor Maine, PD Facebook page and used without permission

The breeze was filtered through pine and cedar. If you stood in just the right spot on the hillside, the sun struck your face in the most positive way. It warmed, but it also seemed to amplify the odors of the the forest. 

The only sound was a lone songbird and the wind taking the long trip south. I have never taken the time to identify the chirps, peeps, and melodic tones of birds, but at that moment I wished I had paid more attention to my grandfather. He took the time to tell me, but I was too young to even have the inclination to try to commit it all to memory. 

Isn’t it strange how when we are trying to take something in, enjoying the silence, the moment, and the location, that our minds still work hard to remind us of the things we should have done better. 

I decided that I wouldn’t let my flaws ruin those few minutes. I committed it to memory so that later on when I could no longer stand, no longer be in that particular place, with those perfect conditions, I would clearly remember how it felt just to be there.
We should do more of that.