Relative Something

It will never be the same as it was before. My mind can travel back to the day I fished with my dad on Lake Mille Lacs, the day when I caught a lot of fish, but I cannot go there. I can pretend to be in this very moment, but that moment will be different for each reader who happens upon this post. I would like to be standing in the high elevations of the Himalayan mountains. I would like to be walking with Ian in the Forest Garden Estate. I would like to hear the first time Neil Young performed songs from his album, “After The Goldrush”. Instead, on this Saturday morning, I will visit my workplace and try to catch up on work that I failed to accomplish during the previous week. Luckily, it does not come at the expense of being with Cyndie. She is going to be gone, as well. She has an opportunity to visit a friend’s horses and do some equine communing. I never expected horse ownership to be a reality in my life, but things that I never expected to happen continue to play out, such that I would no longer be surprised for such possibility to occur. Meanwhile, my fretboard fingers are developing adequate calluses just in time for a little music party at the home of my Himalayan trek partner, Gary. I have exercised my memory, conjuring up a few songs from the archives of my regular repertoire. It kind of feels like a Saturday to me. Fair enough, that.