So, to the wind

The more places I go, the more I am struck by sense memory. The way pieces and angles and scents carve themselves into corners of the mind and wait patiently to come out from their hiding places at future unsuspecting moments. The curve of a road, the light in a tree and you are transported to another time and another place.

Last Saturday was a day soaked in golden light and hot winds. I walked the 5-kilometer path that circles the Imperial Palace, with no real destination except seeing where it went. I dipped in and out of parks and followed the sun. One shaded path, 1000% humidity and the electric buzz of cicadas and I was sent flying to my grandparents screened porch in New Jersey. A garden in the center of the road and the warm wind at just the right angle, and I was 18 again, on top of a hill in Maine with Oliver, drinking raspberry sodas and listening to Neil Young. All the way in Japan.

Then I found this:
I set my heart on the path of calamity,
Where you walk, I opened my heart wide.
Today the wind carried your scent to me;
So, to the wind, I gave my heart gratefully.

8 Responses to “So, to the wind”

  1. hannah says:

    in grave danger of sounding like a broken record, “oh stephanie…”

  2. BF says:

    NJ by way of tokyo. i like that thought. i’m hoping to take a walk like this over the weekend. enjoy yours!

  3. claire says:

    what hannah said.

  4. cindy says:

    love your writing and rumi is always wonderful. the photo of the bicycle is particularly lovely. enjoy your weekend.

  5. lara says:

    love your blog stephanie – keep on keeping on! :)

  6. charlotte says:

    um, yes, ditto hannah.

  7. hanne says:

    ditto hannah & co.

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