Friday, July 23, 2010

Friday Ramble - Remember

Remember...... The word comes to us through the Middle and Old French rememberen and thence from the Latin re meaning again and memor meaning memory or thoughts. In other words, to remember means to retain experiences in our minds, to be able later (sometimes after many years) to call something back to mind clearly and do so at will. It's strange what we remember, and what we choose not to remember, or rather, what we choose to forget with specific intention.

There are memories lodged deep within each of us which awaken longings so intense that they are painful, and we each have our own stories, our own storehouses and hoards of special memories and dreams. Like the mythical dragons of old, we heap up treasures in the dusty recesses of our craniums, and we guard them fiercely.

A color here, a shape there, sunlight drifting through the cranny in an old barn wall, an elusive evergreen fragrance wafting from somewhere nearby, rolling pine-clad ridges from here to there, the sound of rain falling among the trees, the companionable call of an owl at twilight, the perfect swaying dance of a cluster of Queen Anne's Lace on a summer morning in late July ...

My own memories seem to suggest that wild places have been engaging my attention and tugging away at my sensibilities for a long time - probably since I arrived on the planet this time round, and perhaps even before that. How else can I explain the absence (generally) of urban motifs in my portfolio work, this feeling of utter kinship with wildness and the wild?

As a child, I went off seeking wild places whenever I could escape, and it was always difficult to leave such places behind when I found them. As an adult (well sort of), It was a gift to share the untrammeled and undomesticated with children and grandchildren, although I am sure they sometimes found me tedious on the subject. Now I am contemplating another sharing with my sweet and perfect new great-granddaughter, Olivia-Rose, and the mere thought is a joy beyond words.

If we can teach those who will follow us into stewardship of this earth to appreciate its grandeur and mystery, we may be able save the world, and such passionate coinage transcends all my feeble expressions of love and reverence and wonder.


Rose said...

What a lovely post! I've found in these past few years that I've returned to that "wild" spirit I once had as a child. Since I retired, gardening has become my obsession, but it's more than just having something pretty to look at--it's the feeling of oneness with nature and appreciating all the beauty that she has provided. I, too, am trying to pass that along to my grandchildren.

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

All along the country road is Queen Anne's Lace. I would love to have them in my garden. I have tried to take a good picture - but seems there is always a breeze and they will not stand still.
Rose - guess I have returned to that wild spirit of my childhood also!!

the wild magnolia said...

Queen Anne's Lace, such a cluster of beauty.

Memory is a fascinating subject. Memories can shake us or soothe us. I agree, we guard them with vengeance, to hold or release.

Wonderful post and gorgeous photograph!