in the blink of an eye, hours have passed

looking through old notes from my never-sent drafts box. too many words that revealed too much emotion. but here's something that pleases me to remember - ah, the pure exhilaration of wonder (please take me back there soon!):

do you ever get lost, caught in the spell of experience? i do – it’s both lovely and a bit frightening – tearing myself away from concentration that focused too sharply, or maybe sharply enough... the play of light on the pavement receding away from my window’s view as we race along the highway towards belleville, napanee, and kingston... once, i remember being completely enthralled by the quivering perch of a drop of muddy water on the window pane before it began its halting, shuddering criss-cross journey down the dusty glass. each pause a glimpse of spinning flecks of grit and dirt in a magical, synchronous, chaotic dance – i remember thinking it was like colliding schools of tiny silver fish racing around in this tiny aquarium. a dribble-dance encased in nothing more than surface tension. and how fortunate, how very, very lucky to be the chosen witness.