Not Forgotten

I am living the life of an invalid, so I have little else on which to report.  I can't seem to find the road to recovery and pain has kept me from reading much at all.  So my head is full of little of interest to the outside world.

So it is not surprising that I didn't notice the beginning of the Fiesta de Pamplona and the Running of the Bulls. I ran many years ago and have wanted to go back to do it again.  I spent most of that summer in Europe, mostly in Spain and France.  I would do it all again.

But you can never do a trip again.  It is impossible.  There are no re-dos in travel or love.  Or anything else.    There is only the next thing no matter how paltry it may seem.  But it is only paltry if compared to that mythical past when the skies were the deepest blues and the air dry and the breeze perfect and all the stars aligned.  You should have been there.

I am fortunate enough to have been taught not to compare like that by an Old Master.  Of course the past was just as you remember it, and the next thing will be, too.  As an example, I give you this photograph today.  She was a girl I knew in college and who I photographed for my first photography course.  I shot this exactly a week ago today having come in the back door with coffee and bagels.  True.  All of it, it seems.  There are magnificent things both now and then.  I just want to get back to them.

I keep trying and will try some more.  The cat still loves me and lies upon my feet.  Of course, like all things, she has expectations.  There will be yogurt soon, and she would not be forgotten.  She is like all of us in that, I think.