I don’t really have any words of wisdom or wit for you today, gentle readers. When I struggled to wakefulness this morning, I didn’t really know what I wanted to say, or how I would say it. I thought about talking about the resilience of the human spirit, how we are able to rise about the things that crush us. Or about telling you a story about someone I knew once, in a time which is beginning to feel very far away and long ago.

I think I will leave it at this: I remember. I will always remember.

I will remember the water on stone, and the water on sand.

I will remember that things are often tenuous, if best. That not all buds bloom. That subtle scents should be greedily absorbed in deep breaths while feel like they are gashing your chest open.

I will remember to look up into the eyes of the sun, for the temporary tingling pleasure of firing rods and cones.

I will remember threads of footprints on the sand.

Today I remember Adrian Burkey, for he is no longer alive to remember himself.