I’ve noticed this past year that I’ve started to get joy from revisiting old places.
Like, on my recent conference trip, I was visiting a city that I had visited many years ago and seen parts of with two friends who had grown up there, and I very much wanted to revisit a decently famous large sculpture park installation that I had seen with one of them.
I really took my time driving in, so I arrived after dark, and I ended up just sitting there alone in light from the street-lamps that lined the streets of an otherwise busy intersection, and I thought of all the things that had happened to me since the last time that I had been there, like all the people I had known who had since passed away, and how unpredictably different my life was, and all of the ways that the world had changed.
I also kept trying to remember what exact year I had visited that park, and it kept eluding me, no matter how hard I tried to reason it out.
I also wondered if I would ever visit there again.
