The View From Here

Locked away in my solitude, the illusion of isolation is complete. And it is here, at the boundary of earth and sky, that I look out upon the forest and beyond, to where the hills and mountains climb endlessly upward, these great granite steps that lead to the very edge of Heaven.

Winter's bleak tableau, seen through this dirty glass, the snow a virginal white, a funeral veil, to cover the many sins and stains of man; the dense thickets of maple and pine lie dormant in the death grip of their slumber. My eyes drink in the grand spectacle of night; the stars line the edge of the world and burn so fiercely bright; scattered diamonds strewn by the hand of a god.

The songs of my youth tug at the strings of memory; a ghost, a wisp, these tendrils fade much too soon, only to return and I find myself flung headlong into the vast kaleidoscope of days remembered, frozen moments recalled. Images flash by, marching down the years, all that the heart is willing to reveal and the many dark secrets it still keeps. All that once was, all that was lost, and all that remains; ashes and shadows.

The city was vibrant then, it lived and it breathed, undulating with the flow of people. The mind's eye takes in the vast panorama of the beach and the ocean beyond, partially obscured by the roofs of the shops and arcades that once lined the boardwalk. Laughing gulls drift lazily overhead like so many summer clouds, their cries a lonely chorus of ephemeral notes. Blink and it's gone forever.

I remember too, another view of the world from the small, cramped apartment that my mother loved so much; her small comfort in those final days. Stars are seldom seen here, drowned as they are by the wash of garish neon signs and the mist that storms ashore with the coming of night. Memories smolder, yet it's the heart that always burns. Oh, but for one last glimpse of that infinite sea. All that remains... All that remains is naught but a dream; ashes and shadows; the pain and the loss of that last vestige of youth.

It's funny, those little things that you take for granted and then find so hard to live without, once they're gone, but that's just the view from here.

None of the pictures in this post are mine.

Atlantic City boardwalk, mid 80's

Steeplechase Pier

The old Steel Pier and the Planter's Peanut Shop

1970's Atlantic City

Fond Memories...

As always, comments are welcomed and appreciated.

Thanks for stopping by.

I thought this song would go perfectly with this post