There were some days I left my camera in the room where I stayed in South Africa this past June. We visited some lovely places on those days, too, but I did not take my camera with me. I opted instead to see the world through my two lenses and not rely on a 4 x 6 to capture a memory.
I did take my journal with me, though. While it may not hold elaborate, publishable thoughts, I did use it on those days to record verbal snapshots of what I was seeing and experiencing. It holds names of people I met, names of places I visited and imagery of the ocean slamming against the rocks in Knysna. It houses frustrations with our hosts, recollections of being sick, and broken-hearted thoughts about South Africa's history. It tells of sad days when I missed Lanecia, joyful moments after a late-night phone call from Jay and special minutes of hearing someone share their story with me.
Even with camera in tow, I relied on placing memories in my journal, as well.
So this is my lament.
I took the journal inside the Post Office today. This journal also contains addresses for some people dear to my life, and I had it with me as a reference for mailing a package. I am the queen of absentmindedness at times, and I managed to walk away from the P.O. without my journal.
When I returned to the Acklen P.O. about 30 minutes later, they had no books in the lost & found.
So my purple book of thoughts, poetry and memories is no longer with me anymore.