How this mountain did arise

Space Pebble Mountain.
What a flaky title, huh?
Well, yeah, kinda. Unless you know the backstory.
Having that info will make it seem even more flaky for some.
There are others, though, who will get it...who might even dredge from their own memories some place(s), some thing(s), some tiny wedge(s) in time - their very own Space Pebble Moment(s).

We were a motley crew in our late teens with our lives stretched promising before us.
We could do anything. We could be anybody.
Someday.
Someday.
Some Day.

We often gathered on the river's edge at a spot of which very few were aware.
We dreamed.
We planned.
We imagined all the wonderful somedays to come.

Each moment, each new epiphany, we held in our hands for just a moment, like a magical, mystical pebble snatched clean and fresh from space. We imagined our space pebbles piling up just below our bluff until they created an island rising up from the water.

We dubbed our imaginary island of youthful inspiration Space Pebble Mountain.

Twenty years have gone by since then and most of us have settled into lives of quiet conformity.

Sometimes, though, I still remember exactly how it felt; the awesome wonder inherent in the youthful imaginings of what lies ahead on life's long road.

Somehow, though, for most people, this wonder, this freedom gets swallowed up in adulthood; lost under the weight of real-world responsibilities.

So here I am, indulging my mind with memories piled high as Space Pebble Mountain.

Lately, as I rush about from here to there, caring for my family, shopping, cooking, cleaning, working, I've begun allowing myself to slow down...to see the space pebbles all around me still...that beautiful sunset, that tangle of tree branches against those dramatic twilight clouds, that tenacious clump of grass emerging from that meandering crack in the sidewalk, and so on.

And you know what?
I've discovered that I'm still just as free as I was back then.

My spirited, happy, creative inner 19 still exists even if my driver's license does say I'll soon be physically 40.

It's not about the trappings of adulthood.
It's about whether you get lost in those trappings and thus lose the ability to appreciate the beautiful things in life.
From the obvious beauty of a spectacular sunset to much more subtle beauties like the pride in a toddler's voice when he announces he's done his "bi-niss" (um, can we say "time to potty train?") every day I'm finding wondrous new space pebbles all around.

Yesterday...

Yesterday, the sky spent the day in a threatening smash of gray on gray.

But here

was a bright red leaf
that didn't care a lick about the gray skies or the
threat of rain to come.