If I could’ve known how quickly I’d be transitioning through landscapes I would’ve stared at the view longer.
Until I had it etched in my mind.
I would’ve closed my eyes and breathed it in.
The sand. The rain. The sun. The river.
I would’ve walked barefoot over every surface and
listened long enough to understand.
The story behind each landscape
And how it paints my own.
But in the infinite of all that there is, there is never enough time.
I wrestled with a desire to take - a photograph, a rock, a souvenir.
And with each move the rocks get packed and unpacked in boxes.
Chipping away.
Photographs lost in depths of external drives.
But recently when I quiet my mind and come into my body I feel
Those places
Running my hand along the ribbed texture of sandstone.
The smell of fallen leaves in my childhood backyard.
The salty turquoise waters of New Zealand’s beaches.
The fire in my chest crossing the high snowy Himalayan pass.
My heart beating through all those moments like a memory reel.
And I open my eyes to wherever I am.
And feel connected.
Knowing that somewhere out there
This landscape blends into that one.