Cardboard Box Memories

In my own little world, I was walking down the street yesterday. I admired the colour of the blue sky - a bit of an oddity in Vancouver's November. My head in the cloudless sky, I kept wandering, making my way to the gym allowing my senses to be stimulated along the way. The smell of leaves and crisp air filled my lungs and brought a smile to my face. And my eyes kept soaking everying thing; A couple walking hand in hand and stuffing their union in a pocket to avoid the bite of the air, little birds flitting about, squirrels still scurrying to collect nuts, the sound of steamed milk coming from a coffee shop, the sun reflecting off of buildings and onto others, and then a moving truck unloading a large cardboard box.

I stopped and watched the workers unload the contents of the box - but it wasn't the contents that caught my eye, but the box itself. I was laughing outloud recalling a time of cardboard box forts. But the funny thing is, it wasn't from my childhood but the summer of child-like behaviour. I was 19 going on 9 and spent countless days and nights, and the hours in between atop Westmount Drive.

Our box was better than the one delivered yesterday. We had it painted, we had cut windows with shutters and we giggled like fiends inside the box. It was a summer of wondering. A summer where highschool was done and thoughts of our future were at hand. We questioned our paths, and the men we surrounded ourselves with, but we only wanted fun. We wanted a summer of complete freedom before our adult lives would really begin. There were so many silent questions that we dared not to ask. Instead we played. We played until the summer faded, and went our own ways. But the memories are still forever etched in our minds.

I kept on walking with a grin; the grin from the memories, but also a grin knowing that this friend is back in my life. We may never have a summer like then, but there is still plenty of time to create more memories and catch up on all the things we missed.