I miss it all, already. The people. The moments of sitting lazily under a wall, contemplating the black, thin line of rope bisecting flawless, autumn sky. Yellow leaves clutter the road, and that sweet emptiness of sunshine and rock returns me to the best memories. And every year, there are more, and the more memories I have, the more I recognize them forming in the exact moment, thinking, "I'll never be back here in quite the same way again." Those are the moments that glow like orange coals at my feet, where I see my path splitting the darkness ahead. May all our memories add light to this world!

AuthorDerek Franz