From Bea's Porch

When I was a kid, I wanted to time travel. I read A Wrinkle In Time and wished it was real.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized it is. Only it happens a little bit differently.
My body doesn’t go back in time, but sometimes, for an instant, memory transports me right back to a moment that didn’t last long enough, but will stay with me forever.

When I bite into a Reese’s peanut butter cup, I remember the boy who would pretend he’d eaten them all, but save half the bag for me.
When I drive past the Methodist Church, I remember lying on the front lawn with my best friend, watching our classmates play football.
I drive barefoot, and suddenly I’m back in a Subaru, driving to a rock-climbing class that started my love for heights.
I hear country on the radio, and I remember the birthday I spent in my boyfriend’s truck, windows down and George Strait playing.
A picture of the Grand Canyon brings my Grandpa’s voice to my mind, telling me how the canyon was formed.
I put on lipgloss, and remember meeting the girl who is now practically my sister.
I’m sitting around a bonfire with familiar faces, and all of a sudden everyone looks seven years younger. Is it magic? A trick of the firelight?

For a moment, the past sits beside me again, orange-tinted and close enough to touch.

~Bea