I miss. I miss

< nostalgia >
I miss.
I miss sitting on the trunk of a car as dusk rolls over, with nothing better to do than sit there talking.
I misss the sound of crickets outside my window as I fall asleep (not the one damn cricket in DC who has choosen to roost outside my window whenever it rains).
I miss the scene outside my bedroom window that didn’t change in 18 years of living there. I can still see the chipped gray paint on the neighbors apartment building. And the painting of window lights across the neighborhood every night.
I miss sitting in the back of a pickup going 80 down the road to Kashong Glen.
I miss jumping through foot deep snow on a regular basis, and seeing 20 foot high piles of snow in the supermarket parking lot that would still be there in May.
I miss sitting in the rocking chairs on my grandparent’s porch, watching the day fade away. The same house where the egg man delivered on a regular basis, and we could hear the ice cream truck coming from 5 blocks away.
I miss the time when the most powerful act, natural or manufactured, that I had ever seen was watching the lake that had risen 9 feet. (That’s an estimated 10,221,120,000 cubic feet of water). It was this massive body of dark gray matter threatening to overtake the land.
< / nostaligia >

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