19 04 2005

sometimes for no particular reason you remember something.  like you take three steps out the front door, and you’re on the sidewalk, passing by budding tulips, between two wooden houses, and you have this flash back to somewhere else, somewhere with nothing at all to do with front doors, sidewalks, tulips, wooden houses.  this time it was a slightly dark room with a bright world outside, a counter someone stands on the other side of to find things for you, show you things, take your money.  a counter with brochures and maps on it, as at a travel plaza, and small stands or baskets with other things–sunscreened lip balm, mini-mag-lites, mosquito-repelling wrist-bands.  i glanced around quickly, before the picture faded, before my next foot touched down, but i wasn’t fast enough; this morning’s world came back and left me only with a blend.

possible memory 1: the camp store/rental place at pohick bay regional park where paul scored roger & i a pair of canoes to take us & some gypsy’s dog on a bald-eagle-sighting cruise in 2000(?)
possible memory 2: the park store/rental place at kejimkujik national park in nova scotia where brian & dave & i went paddling around the mist in search of islands in 1999(?)
possible memory 3: back at the camp store/rental place at pohick bay, where l_stboy and i were sent to check out the park’s goodness-for-camping-parties potential for bluemeg and ranagar in 1997(?)

in the blend (Fauconnier and Turner’s terminology), the counter is the same (matching connection). the maps are different, but look the same from several feet away (counterpart connection). the light through the windows should feel different but doesn’t stand out clearly as different enough (generic space)–it was colder in nova scotia, physical-climate anyway, although the mental was warm enough. the doors are different–the one that in woodbridge leads to the back room with the piles of paperwork and keys on hooks in jakes’ landing leads to some visitor-center room with birds’ eggs on display (completion). what makes it impossible for me to separate them now, in addition to not turning fast enough in the memory-flash to see who i was with, is (the emergent structure of) what they had in common, the sense of adventures pending, of being in safe but uncertain hands, of being a little lost a lot too far from home.




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