2005-02-02 || 4:17 p.m.

|| the nature sense ||

i forgot how planes are so loud when you're little, or just that you notice them more. it seems like everything is very sharp and clear and notable then. sunlight is so much brighter and there is an otherworldly sense of things; knowing what time it is without understanding the intricate rules of clocks, recognizing when grass is wet without touching it or when there are just five minutes until it gets properly dark out. i remember snails clearly, that funny houndstooth pattern on their shiny slick skin. and the infinite varieties of dirt and how it tastes. hot cement. the smell of chlorine in sun-dried hair. sunburn. exhaustion. the way the legs of dead birds curl up and harden when they've sat in the backyard for a while. i can't figure out if it's just that when you're little, you physically so much closer to the ground where nature is happening.

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