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I once took a summer trip to Alaska with my family. Nearly every vista I encountered was dotted with these forget-me-nots. They gather abundantly on delicate stems and grow quite freely in Alaska’s landscape.

I dried and pressed these tiny (but hardy) blue flowers into the book I was reading, Milan Kundera’s Unbearable Lightness of Being. I recently pulled that book from my bookshelf and found those long forgotten flowers. Faint traces of sky blue were still visible on the faded petals.

Forget-me-nots remind me of a simpler time when the company of my Pentax and long walks along Alaska’s quiet dirt roads were deeply gratifying. Back then I thought solitude was the same as loneliness.

Now I know better.

July 27, 2010

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