The Rivers of Childhood

Snake River, Wyoming / © I.A. Daglis

The next day I went away on the train. A train has a poor memory; it soon puts all behind it. It forgets the cornlands of Illinois, the rivers of childhood, the bridges, the lakes, the valleys, the cottages, the hurts and the joys. It spreads them out behind and they drop back of a horizon.

The Lake (in Dark Carnival, 1947) - Ray Bradbury (August 22, 1920 – June 5, 2012)