It is the small simple things of life that bring us peace.



Saturday, October 5, 2013

Morning Dew

I never cease to be amazed that seeing something can trigger a memory in my mind; the exact same memory every time.  Morning dew on the grass is one of those triggers.  Last weekend we had some rain and the grass was fairly wet.  When I left for work on Monday morning at first I thought it was just left over moisture on the grass, but then I realized it was dew.  There is a distinct difference between rain and dew!

Here's what it reminds me of:  During the years I was in first, second, and third grade we were stationed in Louisiana.  This was convenient for visits to family in Mississippi and was actually our second time to be stationed there.  In those days children didn't go to the cafetorium before school.  We went out on the playground unless it was pouring rain or very cold.  When school started it was still hot; the classrooms were not air-conditioned so it was hot.  But in a few weeks the mornings would be cool and my mother would put me in a little light weight sweater that would come off during the day.  It would also herald the arrival of morning dew on the playground.  I would come into class with little droplets of dew all over my socks.  After the first year of school I knew that the morning dew was announcing that fall would soon be there and the warm afternoons would be over.  Pecans would be falling and the leaves, too.  It would be time for apple cider at Brownie meetings and the ultimate reward of fall:  Trick-or-Treating!

So now every time I see morning dew I am reminded of that playground and my socks covered in the wet dew.  We don't have a lot of morning dew here, so it always a nice surprise followed by the warm memory.

Driving to work that same morning I had another trigger.  There is a low spot along the highway where fog will sometimes form.  That morning the fog triggered the memory from about the same time as the dew on the playground.  As I passed by I couldn't help but remember how the fog would hang, in much the same manner as that morning, in the pecan and walnut groves on the way to school.  Memories stay with us forever, don't they?

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