Heavy rain starting around 8 am yesterday. No bowling! Had a good day typing, got most of the project done - about another page to transcribe. It was cold last night. The furnace came on even though it was on lowest setting. Watched Clementine last night, fell asleep before the end so it obviously will not get a high rating from us.

Here's a story I posted a few years ago, it is fiction but I have attempted to weave in instances from my youth as part of the story. Can you find them?  This will last for several days. 1st part.

THERE WAS NO WIND

Part 1

TWILIGHT REFLECTIONS

H

e sat.  He, Roy, was in front of his computer but his hands were idle, he was staring out watching the sparrows and finches digging, poking and wasting as much seed from their feeder as they were eating.  He was in a reverie, his thoughts in the past, in the years of his youth.  Where had they all gone, where had all the years gone?  As he sat his thoughts took him back over the years and over his life.

 He had lived in many towns, most of them small some not.  For a several minutes his mind stalled on the one place he had always loved the most and over the years had always beckoned his thoughts.  Then he moved on, briefly touched those places his career had taken him, then onto the more exotic places where ‘after career’ jobs had taken him.  These too slipped through his thoughts like water sinking into sand and once more he returned to those years of his youth and that one place once again.

 Friends, pranks, childhood loves, carefree summers and painful partings rolled on through his thoughts until the sudden chatter of the telephone shattered his escape.

 A few minutes later after he had re-cradled the telephone, he struggled to go back to that particular plane he had been on, but to no avail.  Suddenly on a whim he typed out the words ‘Ruby Bay’ and hit search on his keyboard, to his surprise an internet site appeared. Thinking that it was just a coincidence, he quickly opened the connection and there to his delight was an aerial view and several paragraphs about that one home of his youth.

 He saw that there was a location where visitors to the site could leave messages and in moments was composing an invitation to friends in his past, he realized that perhaps not many would visit this site for any number of reasons but was compelled now to carry on.

 Over the next few hours he impatiently went back to the site again and again checking for a response to his message.  Each time he was disappointed.  Time passed, evening came and he went to bed shrugging mentally.  He realized that he was perhaps an exception as many people of his age found other pursuits other than computers and what they offered.

 However the next morning immediately after rising he checked once more and found a single reply!  Without hesitation he opened the new message and read with delight and excitement a short message from a woman who identified herself as a the daughter of one of his friends of so long ago, she signed herself, Emma.  He quickly responded to her message and included his email address so that she could correspond in a more direct manner.  Again an impatient period of waiting ensued, then finally after continually checking, a message arrived and a connection was born.

 Over the weeks that followed, the two traded memories and thoughts, many of hers from the minds and stories of her parents, grandparents and a host of cousins, aunts and uncles.  His were of his times and relevant moments of those bygone days.  The connection that had been born became a bond for she was a conduit for him giving him access to long ‘forgotten’ memories and he was for her a window in time where she could look out onto the lives and times of her parents and grandparents.