From Time to Time

From time to time, I miss my old place. 

Like when I look out my front door and up into the darkening blue skies with pink-tinged clouds that move quickly across the skyscape. A sky that seems to go on and on, forever. I step outside onto the patio and watch forever. At the old place, the wall of windows in my kitchen opened forever to me as I sat at the kitchen table, writing. It's just different. But I do miss the light.

From time to time, I think wistful thoughts about the past.

A past that dresses itself up in its Sunday best and smiles prettily. She's not always so demure, so mindful. And the memory is as wrong as that usage. Still, the past plays her games and sometimes we fall right into it. 

From time to time, I wish I had lived my days differently.

I get to the evening and look back on the long stretch of hours that flew by nearly unnoticed and wish I could grab a handful and use them differently. That I had allowed them to be more useful. Still, I live today as I choose. Did some laundry. Ran errands. Luxuriated at Whole Foods, picking up things like good black tea and root vegetables. Talked to my cousin for two hours as we planned our upcoming trip. Made soup. Ate soup. Spent a few minutes placing the bromeliad I bought today in my bedroom.  

It rained, and the temperature dropped by at least ten degrees. The sun has set on the 99th of 100 summer days and I don't want to blink. We know what happens when we do. 

Tomorrow Has Become Yesterday is a (sometimes) daily writing practice that opens a landscape into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.