Passing

They say the first memories you gather as a child are those that shock you the most.
They are most prominent, most momentous, and thus naturally most memorable.
I never really lent this much thought, seeing as it is quite self-evident; the more things contrast
the more we notice them and thus the longer they linger in our memory.

But it is the very parallel to this that I have failed to realize before.
And now that I consider it, the parallel explains precisely what has fascinated me for quite some time.

That there are moments in life that are so exquisitely transient and delicately blended that it is difficult to tell when they truly begin or come to an end.
They often pass before you are aware they are happening.

Like awakening from a dream, in the zone of time when you feel your mind gradually stir and a slow trickle of thoughts spills over.
Like the gradation of night to dawn, where you are never certain what to call the sky as it seems to change as you ponder.
Like the man that was a child,
the downpour that was a drizzle,
the warmth that was a chill.

A million shades of gray where no line can be drawn.
I try and fail to recreate these moments in my mind.
They are so very clear and yet frustratingly fleeting, tantalizingly beyond my reach.
These are the moments I treasure the most yet can't seem to remember.

The next time you are walking along a beach, try and stand where the water meets the sand. You will find you have no place to stand at all.