Stay the Same
I am here, in an old riverbed. It is dry, dusty, and small hard rounded rocks are littered all around the broken and cracked ground. On either side, long stems of mint grow tall. Their leaves stretch wide and are a deep rich shade of green. Behind them are the embankments of the old river. They stand nearing four feet high. They are made up of a criss-cross pattern from what I assume is shale and similar stones like those at my feet.
And then, immediately, I am taken back.
Orange and yellow round pylons stood squat all throughout the road. I stood on the curb waiting for my turn to cross. The pavement all around, in a few short stretches, had been broken apart. Long rusty steel bars sat on the backs of beaten trucks waiting while men in hard orange helmets walked around talking and surveying the work to be done. Cars navigated delicately around. The occasional long honking of a car horn could be heard. I took notice of all this, but did not say a thing. And then in a moment and in a way that was almost inexplicable as it is inarticulable, you walked into me. You walked up into me and nestled your shoulder into mine with an ease and softness that I can never forget. I didn’t react but just stood there. Pretending the world was as it was supposed to be. And we stood. Just for a few more seconds. And finally, as the light changed, we walked on and neither of us ever said a word.
I am here. And life is in a state of perpetual change. But some things, old things, good things, always stay the same.