Looking Forward to Looking Back

(NaBloPoMo: 4) I was going to drive past The House the other day - the one with the lights on the arbor and the hanging lanterns - but it wasn't quite dark enough. It is, after all, The Magic House and, if I saw it too early before dusk, it wouldn't have been Magical. Besides, the wonder is really only evident when walking. On foot, the shimmer can be reveled in much longer; the luster lingers. E and O get all the credit for its discovery. During daylight, it blends in with all the other houses, uniform and more so commonplace. But, when sun and horizon meet, something magnificent begins.

During the summer, this was Our House. Our nightly summer walks turned from spontaneity to necessity, as we craved time to chatter, to vent, to gush about boys. To talk about how we just don't understand our mothers yet we feel we're becoming them. To speak of the future. To recall the past. We'd round the bend, the Magic House in periphery. The trickle of the fountain ushered us in and the glow of the lanterns grew brighter, the Magic becoming more and more evident as we approached. On the far side of the house and we'd begin the ascent, if you can even call it that. This is the spot where, sometimes, more often than not, O would feel she just couldn't make it. E and I would try to transfer our energy to her, E exclaiming in her older-sisterly tone, "Olivia. Please." Then she'd giggle her infectious giggle, which really is becoming just like her mother's and we'd stride up the hill. Perhaps it was the glow of our Magic House that carried us on our way up the hill as our tittering dawdled and scattered into the air of the summer night.

Although today brought Falling Back and now the days grow shorter, I feel the necessity of a walk coming on. We'll bundle up, walk arm in arm and revel in our Magic House, talking and giggling the night away.