I woke to a memory this morning, my grandmother and things past. This all was put into gear by two of my imaginary internet friends, one in Phoenix and the other in Wilro Park, Roodepoort, South Africa. I’ve been starting my days catching up with discussions that took place while I slept for almost twenty years. Today’s was truly a wake up.
The woman from Arizona posted: “Never in my life have I appreciated rain as much than after I moved to the desert… it has such a distinctive smell – in fact, the guitarist of the live band in the Saddlebronc Grill where I had dinner tonight commented that the smell even got inside.
The drizzle on the roof will lull me to sleep.”
The African language teacher, farmer and poet responded: “It’s something I miss about the Valley (originally, ‘stinky’ lived in Alamosa Colorado). Rain in Seattle didn’t have that, and it doesn’t really do it here either. It did when we caught that thunderstorm in the Kalahari a couple of years ago…”
I was living at my grandmothers when I was four, the day I got my first red bicycle, That afternoon there was a rare summer rain shower that was pouring on Grandma’s side of the street. The sky was black while across the street the sun was brightly shining. The smell of the ozone was overwhelming. Grandma said “That’s the smell of rain.” I was unsure what I was most curious about, the ozone or the sun shower. And then the rainbow. I always had a lot of questions.
Dad was home on leave from the navy and he pulled into the driveway in our old gray Plymouth. He took a red bicycle from the trunk. I wanted it so badly. Dad took what seemed to be an eternity putting training wheels on that Schwinn. I went for my very first bike ride on something with four wheels instead of three. That afternoon ended in crying and road rash.
Memories often come at the oddest times and cascade into a waterfalls of reminiscences and emotional songs lyrics.
It’s time to retire and chase my own dreams.
“… I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She’s coming in, 12:30 flight
The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation
… I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some old forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say, “Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you”
… It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had” Africa Lyrics © Toto
Five Minutes of Toto…
Yes, time to retire.
©️ 11.17.2023 stevendphilbrick sr+
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