Bit by bit nature encroaches upon our dwelling. The same way time seems to encroach on our family's lives and change us. In the spring we look about and decide it's time to clear back a little. Create some space before we become swallowed up. Over the years pieces of our individuality fall away and we move on and begin to forget. Time moves us forward and our view shifts. Each spring in our yard we are like archaeologists within our own lives. In the way our memories buried deep within sometimes spring forth and take us by surprise, sometimes when we least expect it the earth yields up
When was the day they hit it into the bushes and decided not to retrieve it?
What was the day they walked away?
It slipped by so fast I never caught it. Didn't know I missed it until it was long gone.