A WALK DOWN MEMORY LANE

(On vacation to the NW from Hawaii in early July.  Realizing how much I miss the foliage of the Northwest.)

A short stroll to the edge of the yard here at a friend's guest house becomes a walk down memory lane for this NW-raised girl.

First, there are the tall cedars, then the fringe of horsetail ferns across the lip of the yard. To the right are giant Foxgloves, their purple blossoms swaying in the breeze.  Dandelions dot between Alder saplings.  I head into the woods and catch  well-worn paths traversed by children not long ago.  There are huckleberry bushes next to old stumps, and baby maples for the under-story.

I am temporarily taken back to "the woods" by our Bellevue house, banana seats on Schwinn bikes, friend on the back, white knuckles gripping the upright bar, boater shoes pedaling like mad over hills and through dales, sun dappling on cedar boughs as we careen by, shouting and laughing, unzipped windbreakers flapping in the wind. We fly along well-worn paths carved by other kids on Schwinns, skirting large cedar trunks and shadowed by adolescent maples.

It was freedom and a patch of nature near our suburban cul de sac.  

Now 40 years later, I am transported to a different woods, skirting a different suburb and different economic bracket. I am comforted by the same sounds, the same smells, and the verdant memories.