The Height of August (October 5)

“Sunshine had permeated the dock, the planks of my skiff, even the bedrock. Everything radiated heat. Daisies, red clover, and Queen Anne’s lace exploded into bloom … As well, youngsters from near and far thronged to the Little Rock to seize what was left of the summer. Swimming, sunbathing, and flirting reached a crescendo.

“Still, there was no ignoring the progressively earlier sunsets. And as in every previous year, the giddy memories of this season faced an uncertain fate. At best, they would be bundled with others already set aside like old postcards in the corner of a drawer. It was a shadowland from which they could never be reliably retrieved.”

pp. 157-8

Do fond memories truly shine as bright as ever when we recall them years later? Or is that afterglow no more than a nostalgic illusion? In ‘Requiem for a Nun,’ Faulkner asserts without hesitation: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” And that’s the way I see it, too. What about you? Are there long-past episodes that you still remember as vividly as on the day they occurred? Perhaps, for instance, some vignette in ‘Providence Point’ calls up such a recollection for you. Why not give an example as a Comment

(Illustration generated by AI)