Storm and memory

I was driving. The dark clouds over the horizon in front of us looked menacing. There was a storm over there. We were driving towards it, but so far away from it that it didn't look like we were going to be caught in it. Then I remembered once on our road trip to California. Maybe just outside Chicago, or somewhere in Indiana, we saw dark cloud first, then curtain of raindrops, while our car was still moving dry. Barely before I figured out what was going to happen, there was a loud sound of slam: we literally drove in to a big storm. The windshield became blurry instantly. The raindrops hit the car hard and rapidly encapsulating us in the noise. I slowed down because it was difficult to see the road. "We just drove into a major storm" I remember I was saying.

This is one of those things you remember, and the moment after it pops up from your memory, you realize you might have forgotten it. But it just lies dormant in a remote corner in your memory, waiting to be awaken. I stared at the yard and the sculptures outside the restaurant. It was raining. Through the huge ceiling to floor glass window I could see the raindrops falling from sky. Will I remember this scene after long time? What will awake this moment years later?

The weather yesterday seemed keep changing minutes after minutes. Before it started raining again, on my way driving to restaurant, it was sunny. Passing a quiet tree-lined street in Manhattan, my car was moving almost silently in the dancing of sunlight, shadow of tree leaves and soothing early fall breeze. The brownstone houses looked warm and lovely in afternoon sun. Life moves on, but this is the moment I want to live, over and over, and never to forget. That was the thought I had before dinner.