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.

A recognition,

re-seeing.

———-

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

through being

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

warm 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

of summer:

Queen Ann’s Lace, White Sweet Clover, Honeysuckle…

their fragrance, their familiar names,

gathered again

from roadside waste places that I’ve memorized

over the years…

A petal

falls

onto an old book.

Oozing nostalgia, it’s sepia pages provide

a pleasurable half

hour

on a summer

afternoon.

I might sit here to read,

but

this nostalgia is borrowed.

I took the picture at an estate sale in a Connecticut seaside town..

White

cotton curtains

floating

on a summer breeze;

the window screen

has

a small tear or two.

Flowers hide.

Another window screen,

another home – this screen

catching early spring raindrops.

As a child I gazed out windows,

shifting

my focus back and forth

between the details

of tiny screen grids –

and the big, beckoning outdoors,

far

beyond.

A nostalgia of rainy roads:

always

the movement, the shimmering movement across space,

and through time,

until the membranes separating locations and times are thoroughly soaked

and dissolved

into nostalgia.

***

Take a look at this week’s Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge, overflowing with nostalgia.