I turned when I crossed, and I saw a silvery Gateway Arch with a blush of a sunset background. You’d think I’d take a picture, but no. My camera has been acting strange, and I’ve only been able to get one shot per day.
The shot I chose for today is this one:
I lived in this house when I was around 4 or 5 years old, maybe 6 (I started kindergarten when I lived in this house). I first heard the Beatles and Nancy Sinatra when I lived here. I had a few early mornings with my dad trying to teach me how to ride a bicycle here (we weren’t successful until we moved to Chicago). I remembered me and my friend Hugh getting in trouble for taking the “long way” to school on the “busy road.”
That road is no longer busy, if it ever was. But what I can’t believe is that I was allowed to walk to school (and to the Huntington Swimming Pool) more or less alone.
It’s somewhat of a wonderment I had no difficulty finding this house. I found “Creve Coeur” and “Olive St” on the St. Louis inset of a Missouri map. That’s it. I lived there forty freakin’ years ago, and the landscape has changed entirely. It was absolutely unrecognizable. Yet I took a series of long-forgotten right turns, and there I was. How did I know how to get here? It was oddly instinctual; I’ve not felt such a thing for a long time.
And I spent about an hour tonight fixing my camera. Let’s hope I get more than one shot tomorrow.