Places That Never Leave Us

A permanent spot on my personal blog-roll belongs to Boutanical Brouhaha.  I first found it in reference to flowers when trying to arrange my wedding, but I kept coming back because ... I like flowers.  It's a pretty little pick-me-up on a drab day.  She's got a fantastic eye for color, texture, and space.  Look at the kinds of stuff she finds!

via Botanical Brouhaha

via Botanical Brouhaha

Normally its not the chatty type of blog where the author pratters on about inane things (unlike this one).  But, this week, the bloggess shared something in her personal life.  She wrote about a feeling that resonates with me, and maybe with you too.  It strikes a chord about the places we leave that never leave us. 

"I wake up early and roam the streets and the beach soaking up every ounce of the experience because I know it will soon be over and I’ll not return for months or years. I want to remember the feelings, the contemplation, the inspiration…I want to take it all home and live a passionate life. I want to feel these same raw emotions in my daily life…instead of marching through my days checking off a “to do” list and taking care of chores. At Rosemary, I think and DREAM about life."

...

Sometimes its like the years I spent overseas were another life entirely.  It was so long ago that it practically was a lifetime ago, and on the other side of the world to boot.  I took from those years self-sufficiency, and learned not to take things for granted.  I learned that if I wanted something I had better make it happen, because in a town of a million people nobody knew me and nobody was going to make it happen for me.  I learned to find joy in solitude.  I carved out a life there, however insignificant, and it carved out a significant place in my heart.  Every time I go back it may be for the last time.   

Hiroshima

I didn't even crack the surface; didn't even begin to learn its delightful and dirty secrets.  But I knew where my favorite Izakaya was, I knew where to get the best milk tea, I knew my favorite spot for people-watching, and I knew where to go where people knew me, and where I could be by myself surrounded by people.  

I still think about the many kindnesses I received, and the debt I owe to pay those kindnesses forward.  There was a lot of laughter.  And confusion.  And no less than two stolen bicycles.  The friendships with good people now scattered to the corners of the earth, and a time that, of course, can never come again.     

D has never been to Japan, and though I know its probably not in the cards for us in the near future I do so want to go there with him.  I have a mental catalog of all the things I want to show him and all the places I want to take him.  A hazy, far-off someday.  A set of uncaptured photographs in my head.  

If the yen ever settles back down.
Ah well.