Disapperance of Diamonds

There are specific moments, enshrined in memory like celebrated relics, they play over and over in glorious full color and awaken the nostalgia in us. Moments when it's all so clear, so lucid and beautiful even in the accepted, cliche sense. Moments so perfect that for even a split second, we get chills and as the goosebumps spread across us, all we can feel is something inexplicably good deep in our bones.

I look to my left across the sunbathed water as sparrows dive and play, silhouetted against the mid-August sun. A cool wind tousles my hair and raises the tiny blonde hairs on my skin, then with the cloud's migration across the afternoon sky, all those sun-strewn diamonds on the water disappear, and I feel autumn; it sinks into my veins like a certain sweet poison. I feel its chilly breeze, the smell of burning leaves and the anticipation in the air of a football stadium right before the game begins. The healthy green of the distant trees and warm depths of the lake feel it too, and then I hear it -- geese, their loud calls echoing over the water, their strong bodies readying for the journey away from the cold. With a fond peace I think back on summer... another summer ushered in with joy and escaping me with its usual assured speed. My heart smiles at this annual remembrance and age old question -- "Where has the summer gone?" And for perhaps the first time, my memory can answer back with stange contentment...

Summer went with you to the beach, laying on hot sand under a deep blue sky and soaking in sea-foam green water. It was there in the reclined movie theater seats countless times, enjoying the newest blockbuster with a handful of Reese's Pieces melting in your mouth. Summer was lingering in the incense-filled air of the attic while familar classic rock played and you sat talking, smoking cigars, laughing under dim Christmas lights. It was burning in the embers of the fire you sat around, as you let your marshmallows swell and stick to your fingers. Summer was with you at work at that little lake that so many consider their second home, while you sat out on your post and struggled to not check the time. It was all throughout you each time he reached for your hand and butterflies rose into your stomach, and it overtook your senses with every kiss, it urged you to find a way to stop time and smile in the perfection of it all. Summer was in every smile, laugh, hug, conversation, every minute spent with those whose company you long to be in. Summer was the friend who gave you the gift of opportunity and cursed you with the reality of time, of choices, of distance. Summer opened a door, you stepped through. And you feel a sad sense of truth at the realization that every door must someday close.