What will I remember?

While I am upon this voyage, I find myself pondering a most curious idea… Later on in my life long after I this voyage is over, long after my high school career is over, long after my ties with bush have receded into the ever changing permanence of memory, what will I remember from this trip? Something tells me:

I will remember, biking to the lycée every morning, the cold biting my white knuckles as they firmly grip the handlebars of the ancient bike.

I will remember, standing in the courtyard in the morning listening to the birds of the bises chirping on either side of the students rosy faces.

I will remember, the annoying hum of the fan in the bathroom, that becomes just a little bit fainter when one closes the door.

I will remember, the feeling of cool, evening air flooding into my room, as I open the wide window with crack and rest myself on the bed.

I will remember, the must of age, permeating the bones of the library, as it guards its tomes of teen fiction and comics.

I will remember, the agonizing boredom of the lunch line, waiting while watching others eat, eager to rest my feet.

I will remember, running up the edge of the world and peering out over a vast hamlet, roofs ablaze as the sun sheds its dying light.

I will remember, the voice of elton john permeating the cracks between classes, as I gaze a vast ocean of light, blue stretch from either side of my comprehension, above my head.

Indeed, something tells me that I will remember a thing or two.



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