I tried to save a bug tonight. Actually, I tried to get it out of my car. It sat beside the windowsill of the passenger seat. I lowered the glass with the press of a button. Once it was down, I flicked the bug but it fell further down the side door. I flicked it again and tore its body apart. The bug died at my attempts to set it free.
When I sat down to write, this was the first thing I could think of. And I can’t tell you why, but moments like this stick out in my mind. Little life moments that last only seconds or minutes. They come and go swiftly like the wind.
Speaking of wind, another moment that struck me today was the way the dry leaves tumbled across the grass. They remained low to the ground like wheels rolling on the pavement. The leaves rolled on the earth with force from the wind. And they traveled like a herd of fallen stars.
Does this mean anything? What’s the significance?
I don’t know. It’s just what I remembered. And I felt like writing it down.