Buried Deep

It rained all night. The smell was still in the air when I got up to let the dogs out. The smell of freshness and renewal. I have always loved the rain.

It has tap-tapped so gently through my long road of memories. Dusting off the film until I see what's there. Rain is a song I never get tired of hearing.

Do you ever find yourself singing a song that goes way, way back many years? 

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and a song is there that I suddenly know all the words to. 

But then I wonder: where did that song come from? Who taught me that song? Where did I hear it? 

Sometimes I am just moving through life, putting one foot in front of the other, going about my day, and a thought, or words, or a sound, will pull me up short.

It is so brief that you think it must be deja vu. Yet you gasp in recognition.

Is it a figment of your imagination? Or the fragments of a memory? 

And then as swiftly as it came, it is gone. Just passing through. Rounding the bend out of town. Gone to take root some place else. 

Some days I am baffled by my own thoughts. Some days it makes me wonder if reincarnation is real. That perhaps another woman left a spirit that made its trail to me. 

Who cannot find the end and is left halfway here and halfway gone and no light to shine the way for her. Caught between here and eternity.

And she is roaming back like a ghost to hand me thoughts I did not think. Yet she will not be at peace until I think them for her.

You wave your hands at them as if they are gauzy cobwebs you somehow got tangled in. But the more you turn and try to shake it off, the more it leaves its gossamer like threads wrapped around you. 

When I was very young, I spun richly detailed stories in my head to entertain myself. Sometimes I wrote them down. 

Sometimes they danced in my head as I ran through thick rows of tall corn stalks in the garden. The earthy scent clung to me, and sometimes I was afraid I would not find the end. That I would run on into forever until the sun set and dusk brought down the shades of darkness.

But then a swath of blue would light the way and I knew I had found the sky. Which meant if I just stopped to look down, I would find my path. 

No matter how long you live on this earth, memories will walk the long road with you. A pinpoint of light that is seen from a long distance. But occasionally sparks and becomes a flickering flame. 

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
                                               - Beryl Markham, West With The Night


  1. WOW ! Beautifully written ! Thanks for sharing ! Have a wonderful weekend !

  2. Well, you have my head spinning! You really should take these little tales and have them published, Brenda. You do have a gift. Now I finally got your new blog address in my favorites file. I took out the 'a cozy little house' and put this one back in! Whew! :)
    Have a nice weekend.
    Be a sweetie,
    Shelia ;)

  3. I am so loving the header, Brenda, and I have always loved your writing style. xo

  4. I have moments like the ones you have described very often Brenda..I so believe in reincarnation and have met people I know I have known in another life..I am drawn to them and have feelings for them I cannot explain..and can never understand why other than I knew then from somewhere before..Have a great weekend and thanks for sharing...xoxo..Carol

  5. YES, the muse has returned to the Cozy House!! Yippee!!

  6. Humming a tune.
    Wondering where it first came to me.
    Being baffled by my own thoughts.
    Yes,...I know this all too well.
    please get out of my head! LOL...

  7. We have the DNA of past family in us. We have a small portion of each person who went before us inside us. Why wouldn't some of another creep in at times? I don't believe in reincarnation, but I have had times when I feel like I have been somewhere before. I have an affinity for England even though I have never been there, but some of my ancestors came from there.

  8. Haunting thoughts so beautifully written...

  9. Someone once told me that our memories come from the DNA of our ancestors, and I suppose if you think about it, we do get their DNA, so why not fragments of their memories.

    I just looked up at the above comment, and she says the very same thing..life is funny.

    You are very reflective, and it's beautifully written.


  10. Oh Brenda, that was so beautifully written, I wanted it to go on and on. I've been up on the coast of California for a much needed rest, and the wi fi wasn't working, so I spent 3 wonderful days without outside world news, emails, FB. It was fabulous. But I was so happy tonight when I found you back online in my reg feed. Then when I read this, I knew I was home and comfortable once again running thru the corn stalks with Brenda.

  11. a beautiful and rather haunting sort of post...:)

  12. What a beautiful post, Brenda. I do believe in past lives and that those lives come forward with us so that we can resolve all of the issues that we have faced. I too wake up often with a song in my head and it may stay there for a moment or linger for days. Have a wonderful Saturday, my friend. xo Laura

  13. Life is such a mystery. Sometimes I can feel and look like my Mom. I do get tunes in my head and they stay there for a long time.
    If reincarnation is real, I don't think I'd want to "do" life all over again. Once is enough for me.
    I'm thinking about you, my friend.
    Enjoy the rain----that is Mother Nature's song and blessing. Would love to have a tin roof on my house. ;o)
    Hugs, Charlotte in Virginia

  14. Wow,that is amazing!!! Thank you...

  15. Beautiful prose, Brenda. I think you are "sitting on a goldmine" as a dear friend used to say and should publish a book! And I do know exactly how you feel...


  16. Oh my goodness............
    You find the words to capture feelings and thoughts that are almost impossible to portray. You make us feel and know and remember. The gift is so huge. The gift that you have been given, and the gift you allow us to peek into.

  17. Scattered memories,.... love your style Brenda. Please consider publishing a book we would all treasure. You truly do have a gift to share.

  18. Beautiful! It ended too soon - we want more! We want more!

    And Jen@MuddyBootDream is correct that some memories come from our ancestors, but more from our parents and if you are the youngest in your family you will have more memories from them than your older siblings, since they will have done more, learned more, worked more and sang more songs before you were born.


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