At the end of the road I turned and faced the wind.
Flying dirt or bits of snow piled about in patches stung my face. Small sticks, newspapers tumbled past. What few leaves left over from Fall were being plucked and sent flying over empty farmers’ fields like dark butterflys speeding along at breakneck speed in circular patterns.
I stared back at the road where moments before I had sailed through life, the wind at my back speeding past life’s beauty, aware only of the burden of unforeseen consequence and pain, the beauty of the world having passed by passed by unnoticed. My only concern … TIME.
I tossed the heavy knapsack I carried for longer than I can remember into the tall grass where it disappeared.
Golden memories flowed into my mind.