There have been times when I wanted to crystallize time. We are part of a mechanism with no levers or at least that's the feeling that gives us the living, nobody can access some sort of existential slow motion. Can we afford a still picture with the memory. We can return to a feeling twice. Rarely experience. To be sure never to relive the same stretch of life. However, this can be overcome with some artefacts. One is to remind oneself in the day when we are told: "Remember this."
Another is revisiting a memory together with another person with whom you have lived a juncture in time.
That is to say a few days ago I saw this access to machine controls time talking with my younger brother, during a race in the country. I reminded him that I was over there often to stretch my boy. At one point I wanted to describe that day that I brought with me too, at the time a baby of just four years. A lovely spring afternoon, I walked with him side by side for half an hour and I think we came close to a pool of spring water, one of many scattered near the headwaters of the River.
Needless to say, that in itself in the spring campaign is something wonderful, add the hot sun, a post-lunch drowsiness and a mountain of time to cherish the memory of the nap that followed. I lay down among the daisies and do not look like a bucolic embroidery, flowers were real.
I stayed asleep softly in sufficient time because my brother pitted at least twenty questions dictated by the typical attitude of all the discovery that a child at that age. My answers came naturally slurred, and mostly broken. Above the chirpy voice of the baby only chirps of other beings equally delicious. I passed an hour after the torpor and go home. That's it.
Dodic'anni after my teenage brother ran from the same sources and pumping blood with an ease that I had already lost at the time of memory, flies over a puddle and says: "I remember it perfectly, but I thought it was a dream ".
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