Hawthorne Hill by Richard DeRosa

Desert Dispatch #2:
Remembering and Re-remembering

Every spring up on the hill a process of re-remembering inevitably takes place. Bird calls and songs lain dormant all winter need to work their way back to conscious memory. And as the world greens up and comes to life, memory needs to do a few tricks as well. Can’t remember how many times I have been on a walk, noticed a spring flower and then spent a good part of the walk wracking my brain for its name, knowing all along that I really do know it. Few mental conundrums are as exasperating as knowing something and not being able to dig it out. Sort of like forgetting one’s name. Perhaps it is a function of age, but that is no matter. The process of recall is as welcome as it is frustrating.