“And just the other day, when I took that book down from its dusty post on my shelf, the same pressed flower fell out of its pages (after a quarter century of stillness) and dropped onto my bare toes. There was a deep sense memory, then, that returned me to that hushed state of mind on the lost green hill, a state that I have so rarely known since …I fear that we are the last of the daydreamers.” The last of the daydreamers
A lovely excerpt from The End of Absence by Michael Harris in this blog post by AdBusters. Take time to read the whole excerpt today. It is a little like a poem in praise of a slower time.