Indulging in a bit of nostalgia

After months of frantic activity, running to and from multiple basketball games every night, the winter sports season is over. Sports in our neck of the woods has suddenly come to a stand-still. The spring season is not set to get underway for at least a few more weeks.

I’ve used this time to take a few big, deep breaths of fresh air, catch up on some cleaning and just relax. I’m grateful for the downtime because I know once the spring season does begin, it’s going to be another roller coaster ride as I try to cover as many track meets, golf matches and baseball and softball games as humanly possible.

But until late April does arrive, I plan on enjoying my free time. Lately, I have found myself on a bit of a nostalgia kick. I don’t know why, perhaps it has something to do with the weather?

This time of year always reminds of late fall. The snow still covers the ground, the skies are bleak and gray, and the temps are hovering just above freezing. The bear has yet to stir from its cave, has yet to hear the song of the bee and the lure of summer during its deep slumber.

It’s a time of reflection, much as the fall is in late October and early November. As such, it has me thinking about the past, about friends now distant and of a more innocent time.

When I was a child, I loved nothing more than rushing home, eager to get back to my comfy bed and crack open another fantasy novel. I’ve written once before about the power of reading. A good book can take you places you’ve never dreamed of, and as a teenager, I would spend hours lost in the far-flung future or on a different world, where magic and not science ruled.

My favorite novels where from the Dragonlance series, and I loved a world where dragons, magic and warriors intermingled in a quasimedieval setting. The characters were rich and fully realized, and over the past weekend I revisited them.

I had found some of my old books in a shop on Central Avenue in Marshfield a few years ago. I happen to think it was for a reason, to remind me that magic and destiny are real. We live in a rigid world of laws and science that is surrounded by the constant buzz of technology.

But magic is there, in the corners, on the edges and when we least expect it. Writing has always been the oldest form of magic, and as I reread words my eyes had not seen in years, the story meant something different to me. Oh, the words were the same and the story the same, but I had changed, and I found new things jumping out at me.

After I got done reading one of my old books cover to cover I thought about that young boy living in Hayward, now 20 years gone. He would not recognize me as his future self, but when we started to talk, I think he would know.

My love of fantasy remains strong, and so does my love of the books and movies of my childhood. As the years tumble on, and as things change faster and faster, those old books have become more important to me.

I hope that in the future our children and grandchildren have time to read. I hope they too can escape to other worlds and remember that magic is there, if you know where to look.

M USINGS AND G RUMBLINGS

ROSS PATTERMANN REPORTER