Moments appear suddenly, like shooting stars, magical and fleeting. I memorize the feeling, the light shared and now gone.
Moments defy capture. They slip through the nettings of the mind. They leave a few tangible elements to be swept into a pile, words and photos, memories like an imprint on time. But when I burden myself with context and history, when I gather the words, when I try to hold the fleeting light, I miss the beauty of now.