To Prologize

The external world of my youth, as I know it, was comprised mostly of small towns. A distillation of characters, places and experiences compressed into a catchment oft described as “within walking distance” from each other. Custom with observance played a large part in such places, celebrations and formal recollections marked calendars throughout each year. Holidays coupled with the change of seasons emerged as the reason for being in light of a routine existence. Such events ferment a mythology bubbling from base to cap of our memories, creating a product of equal parts sweet and bitter.  One honeyed time began the day after Thanksgiving in my little inner world as seen through the eyes of a photograph.

(found black and white photograph, unknown origin)