Looking Back by Anne Bach Looking Back After Billy Collins’ On Turning Ten At nine, I looked back at the procession of changes as adventures. At seven I had started trying to memorize my life - the way the frost caught the field with sparkles that first winter in New Jersey - how each twig and branch was cased in light - the first snow I saw - the worst blizzard in fifty years that turned the woods into a fairy snow castle. I was memorizing the new days and the old - the adventures of the past - in California - the golden days in the vineyards and orchards and the “house on top of the hill” - four children living in stories, exploring the old winery, excited by the smell of ferment and wood - finding a fort in the thickest brush where you had to crawl on your hands and knees to get in, but when you looked up you were in a secret room of all twigs and intertwining branches so perfect it made you laugh. I memorized the warm air of Mountain View and the cold of Scullville - so cold it made you cry while waiting for the bus that didn’t come because of the ice. I said we should write a book about the adventures - and took pictures in my mind - before the next chapter in the next new place. I memorized nature and fireflies, and dogs that ran with me in the tall grass - and though I didn’t try - I memorized the expressions on the faces of the people I would not see again. Center for Story and Symbol | Mythic  Resources Seminar Reading Lists |Site Map | Search folkstory.com Page Errors | Write to Jonathan Young Web Design by Design Passions

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