The deepest remembrances of all are the quiet ones, the moments of stillness that linger after the laughter and the tears, placid and silent and immovable as rocks on a riverbed. The unspoken understandings through looks exchanged between the spaces of a crowd, the feeling of eyes and the grasp of a gaze through the veil of passers-by, seconds of the past stretched into eternity by memory.

In the proximity of a breath, the eager uncertainty of fingertips, the matching of footsteps between puddles, the unexpected coalescing of a moment in the rain with a single umbrella and a distance to walk, a place to find; all these fall into place as memories uneroded by time, the shared realisation of possibilities and their gentle relegation to the sigh of the drifting rain, as opportunities out of time and place, less suited to reality than to memory, the material of dreams and sudden dazes in the day.

Memories--the footprints you left all over my past, that I find myself continually retracing today, and that stretch out as far as I can see in the direction of the future.