mellow yellow

I saw someone using a shoe horn the other day. It made me happy. It made me smile. A blast from the past. I’m not sure I would have thought about a shoe horn without actually seeing one in use, all silvery with that interesting curvy angle. But sometimes, like right out of the blue, an image or a visual memory will just pop in – “Hiya. Just popping in, make sure you’re okay, things are cool.”

Earlier, sitting quite still on the zafu, The Beatles song “No Reply” showed up. No reason, not that I know of, other than it lingers in the place Buddhists call “Warehouse Consciousness” along with 28 billion other moments from being born to still here. I’m pretty sure a shoe horn made an appearance in this kid’s timeline a smidge earlier than the “Beatles For Sale” album I no doubt owned and cherished.

If I’m lucky maybe a Karmann Ghia will drive by when I’m out on this Monday morning’s walk. Maybe it will be yellow.