To love is to lose

Just now Denzel was stretching out on the carpet and looking back at me in mid-stretch.

That was the exact way Wolfie used to be in a picture of him we had. Every time when thoughts of Wolfie cross my mind, I’m awash with sadness and longing. I wonder where he is now..I wonder whether he managed to stay united with little blue eyed Molly. I hope no one separated them. Memories of those two little kittens who once resided in our garage pierce my heart now and then. I wonder whether they have a loving home to live in. I hope with all my might that they do. I wonder what the new owners must be calling them. One of my favourite sayings goes on to say something like this..”You will never forget how someone made you feel...” I believe that is true.

It is raining again. I was surprised to see sunlight flood our bedroom as I was waking up. I was hoping that the storm had maybe passed despite the weather report. But I’m afraid, it hasn’t. I still miss the pine trees that the neighbour had in his garden that I used to look at while I wrote. One more piece of evidence that supports the theory of “You will never forget how they (person, animal, tree or thing) made you feel”. I guess what we miss in the end are the feelings that were generated. 

My Happy Place #1

These are my attempts to capture (with my little phone-camera) the beauty of a secluded beach that I am determined to revisit over and over again. As I find myself struggling with words, I shall let these pictures describe themselves.

A visit to the past

At last I can hear the silence, the gaps between my thoughts; at last I can  hear my pulse and the incongruent roar of a lawn mower in the distance.  The past few weeks had been a chaotic blur, an eventful holiday that I involuntarily participated in. The best part was visiting Wellington after thirteen years and falling in love with the mountains, once again. Hutt Valley is a beautiful place, each time one looked out of a window of a house or a car, the blue green mountains smiled back at you. The mountains offer a sense of protection or ‘sheltered-ness’ that I cannot explain. Living in a valley is such I suppose. Then there was the raging wind, the blue spotless skies, the Hutt River that flowed across town and a feeling of déjà vu, wherever we went. A lot of things had changed. I could not find the house we lived in as it had been demolished. But the street was more or less the same only made smaller by my grown up eyes. The school was painted a different colour and looked more modern. The library was nearly unrecognizable from the garden entrance we took, but I spotted the birdcage at the back.  I wonder what life would be today if we continued to live there for the past thirteen years. I suppose I would not be who I am today. Who knows whether that’s good or bad?