Moments

Celeste Cameron

Moments to me are neither a picture nor a video, it’s like a still image that seems as if it’s moving, but that’s not what you’re focused on. It’s as if the moment was of a dark oak tree, caught up on a windy autumn evening. It’s perfectly still in your eyes, but the leaves still fall, the twigs still break, and the sun still sets. And yet, the moment is just on the tree, seeming to not move in the moment, but with time. 

 

Feeling still is neither good or bad, but it does make us aware. A moment I imagine often, since I have never lived it, is being still on a cliff, watching the sun set over grassy plains with icy mountains in the background. My feet dangling off the edge, moving with the wind, my body letting it happen. I lean back onto my palms, and yet I do not feel the little rocks dig into them. I see a pesky hair fly in front of my face, and yet I am not bothered by it. 

I just feel still.

A contrast to everything around me. The dust is whisked away, the sun continues its journey downward, out of sight. 

I feel, and not feel, everything at once. My chest moving up and down periodically, the warmth that I feel on my front, and the chill on my back.

Everything. 

I wouldn’t know if I am completely alone, for I do not look around. I just stare into the sun, feeling my eyes shift down as time passes. There could be someone behind me leaning on a tree, or on the very ground next to me. But I do not look.

The moment seems to go on forever. Me wanting the sun to never leave. To take away the warmth that I feel. To stop being my shining star, the only thing that inspires me.

But it must leave. As things must continue moving. Breathing. Living. Things must continue on.

I know the moment is over when all I see are the silhouettes of those icy mountains, the blackness of the grassy plains, and all I feel is the coldness of the night. 

I sigh, as I must continue too.

I have been allowed this moment to observe life, to feel it around me, and to not feel apart of it. However, all things must continue.

And that means me.

You.

 

I close my eyes, not forgetting the vision that I love imagining, and continue. 

 

 

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