There's something about a full moon that seems to draw out memories no matter how deep they have burried themselves. The other night, by the shimmering light of the full moon I made my way home from work. I probably had the music a little too loud and I was probably driving a little too fast. Music might be like the moonlight, drawing out memories. Some songs take me back a few months, others a few years. At some point I realized that this was the first September that I'd spend in Manchester since I graduated high school.
Of course I've been back for visits, but I've not done those day to day things. I wasn't working at the range or playing in the fields. I'm surprised by the warmth during the day and always glad I thought to bring a sweater with me at night. People may wonder why I put a sweater on in the parking lot when it's not nearly cold enough for it. I still like to have the windows down as I drive down the long road home.
It takes me back to when I used to go to the driving range with my dad. We'd always leave at closing time and I'd try to curl up in my seat to hide from the wind that whipped in through the open windows as my dad listened to talk radio - maybe the latest Tiger game - and drove a little too fast.
I listen to music and not talk radio, but I can still hear the announcer speak the familiar names of those Tigers. I can't even name one of the Tigers today. I don't think I was ever a fan, but I was always proud to have some of those old baseball cards. Even the cards are gone these days.
The only fall memories that come to me from high school are those of play practices and the occasional walk from the high school into town to get something to eat or in search of entertainment before practice started. I remember the start to my longest lasting high school relationship. In fact, I can probably pinpoint the day although not the exact date -- while I used to remember dates with ease it now slips my mind. It was sometime in November, before the fall play and I called the guy an idiot and invited him to have dinner with me and a friend. I suppose that's one way to start things.
Four of us used to drive down this curvy road with big hills at night. Once I think the car lights were turned off. I suppose it's the sort of thrill we were looking for. We were too clean cut and well behaved as teenagers to do anything too wild. I drove down that same road the other night. I turned the music down and lost myself in the mist and in the moonlight. I couldn't see more than a yard in front of the car and I didn't dare turn off the lights. Above me the moon shone her brightest and I wondered if any of the others still drove down this road. Did they share it with others or did they drive down it all alone and wonder about the rest of us?
Most of my memories revolve around summertime. It might have something to do with the long days and warm nights or the fact that there was no school to distract me. Or maybe I'm confusing September with summer because it's not as cool as October and November. It's a transitional month, whether it's sending me back to school or just a change in the weather. For once I'm not back in school and it still feels a lot like summer to me. The nights are a little too cool and the days are a little to warm. Maybe with little else to distract me I finally have time to notice the weather.
The cooler evenings bring the mists that shimmer in the moonlight. The mists that swirl around me like the memories that keep surfacing. I'm not sure if it's the moon or the music that brings them to mind but I'll keep driving a little too fast with the music a little too loud as I make my way home.