All day time is folding on itself. Challenges from years before come back to the front of my mind like the snake wrapped loosely around, head over tail. The favorite picture playing behind my eyes is that of me, about seven years old, riding in the back of pa’s truck. Standing, hands on the roof, hair blowing hopelessly tangled behind me, little brother with his glowing white hair and cut off shorts, laughing beside me. The country road, oak leaves covered in road dust, winding on into the soon to hot summer day. Time folding in on itself like the snake wrapped loosely around, head over tail.
Here now in this time, sunshine warm on my shoulders, wind rushing over and around my hair, blocked by the helmet, accented by the bugs smacking into my legs and arms and sometimes even my face. Companion now is Michael. My arms wrapped around him, head on his shoulder, smell of warm leather. Time folds in on itself like a wave disappearing right before hitting the shore.
I’m holding my new born baby girl and she looks at me with those eyes. I can still see them, eyes so ancient and so brand new, like she had just stepped out of eternity and into my now and my now is cold. My now is cold and empty and full of promise that I cannot see but in that moment I know there is a God and that He has allowed me to participate in His miracles.
The snake unfolds itself in a swift movement, a slither, a slide. It unfolds itself and I can see the blue sky. I can see the miracle blue sky. After days of magnificent clouds dancing their threats of storm, I see nothing but blue. A cement truck drives into my field of vision and I’m back in my grandpa’s truck, hair flying hopelessly tangled. My brother is laughing. The smell of hay and cigarette smoke surrounds us. It is a perfect summer day. The days those summers were full of miracle blue skies and concrete-days of potential. These days are full of miracle blue skies and concrete- the smell of asphalt beginning to melt. There is so much potential here.
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