Nostalgic moments can arise inexplicably, leaving you wondering why this particular scene drew you back into a foggy pool of nostalgic associations.
An old truck,
parked on a Seattle street on a cold winter day –
the electric wires overhead, the blue sky and soft clouds,
the wet pavement and
luminous light merge,
evoking a familiar but inchoate feeling.
Road trips evoke nostalgia, and also the familiar roads
traveled dozens of times from home to work and back again,
their curves and hills
lodged in my muscles
like a dance.
A fall rain shower washes out the details, and
the well-traveled path transports me
to a vaguely nostalgic place.
A place located in my mind and outside it –
here and now, time expands
in a particular place.
A foggy window on a winter morning
is the softly translucent backdrop
for buds promising spring. Suddenly
I’m nostalgic for everything green and
pushing past barriers – the whole gestalt of
springs past and future,
is evoked by tiny, frail buds
holding their own against
winter’s stubborn grays.
Through the car window,
glowing in evening light, a bouquet
Queen Ann’s Lace, White Sweet Clover, Honeysuckle…
their fragrance, their familiar names,
from roadside waste places that I’ve memorized
over the years…
onto an old book.
Oozing nostalgia, it’s sepia pages provide
a pleasurable half
on a summer
I might sit here to read,
this nostalgia is borrowed.
I took the picture at an estate sale in a Connecticut seaside town..
on a summer breeze;
the window screen
a small tear or two.
Another window screen,
another home – this screen
catching early spring raindrops.
As a child I gazed out windows,
my focus back and forth
between the details
of tiny screen grids –
and the big, beckoning outdoors,
A nostalgia of rainy roads:
the movement, the shimmering movement across space,
and through time,
until the membranes separating locations and times are thoroughly soaked
Take a look at this week’s Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge, overflowing with nostalgia.