My earliest memory

My earliest memory

When my head was still bigger than both of my arms and I had to use all their strength to grab the crib bars to stand up in my crib, I looked out through the dark window pane while everyone was sleeping. Outside I saw bright red and white lights streaking beneath magically. The whole moon seemed magical, too. It was frightening sometimes how the lights would screech. They could stop or be so quick as they shined under the streetlights like the shiny backs of cockroaches under the glare of light bulbs in our home. The lights kept moving this way and that way every moment through all of the night I could remember, mysterious and beautiful.

They reminded me of my grandparents crossing the wooden floors downstairs, moving ahead slowly in the dim light from a farther room. They too seemed to see only straight ahead, almost traveling blindly, strange creatures in the night world.