Summertime ...

photography print magnets by Sarah Ronald

 ..... and the living, allegedly, is easy.

Sometimes it is so, especially when the living is in a holiday cottage or vacation rental, or even cutting everything loose to stay under canvas in a wooded glade (though maybe not so much with the recent thunder storm). Cue endless days, tempo rubato living.

Suddenly it's packing up day, deciding which special rock or twig to keep in the kid's suitcase and how many new sandbuckets is too many. Will the tinned cookies survive the trip and did we remember a gift for the house-sitting neighbour? Hitting the road unconsciously in early morning to make the flight, sliding a key under the doormat, spending a listless day doing nothing much, waiting for a late departure time ... whatever; parting is (allegedly) such sweet sorrow.

But memories refuse to be left under the doormat. Unconsciously un-packed, they travel with us as shells or photographs or ticket stubs. From each and every holiday, re-emerging to light up a drab workday moment or never-ending laundry list back in the mundane humdrum reality.

Memory as souvenir, sweet sweet souvenirs.