The Small Moments

Back in June I was riding shotgun from the big city with the equipment trailer in tow,

when I was flooded with memories of coming back from out-of-state shows.

The familiar whine of tire treads on pavement, the wafting fumes of fast food restaurants,

the heavy humidity in the summer air, and the temperature drop as the sun receded. 

But I wasn't thinking about the competition, I was thinking about the camaraderie.

I was thinking about all the good people that I met there.

I was thinking about our little convoy of horse trailers that came from Maine

and marched across state lines. I was thinking about cookouts after dark and

boxed Merlot even though I've basically been sober for 5 years.

I was thinking about early mornings shrouded in mist before the sun came up,

the sweet smell in the air and murmurs of anticipation.

I didn't think about my time in the ring, chasing ribbons to try and prove myself. 

I thought about those small moments. 

Ones I wish I had been more present for.

The kind of moments that you can miss in the blink of an eye, yet can find an eternity within them.

Those are the ones I miss.