Whilst running today, I passed an old man on an empty street, facing the sun setting in the red sky, practising the Waltz. When times get rough, I shall be reminded of this moment.

This was a friend's status on facebook. I could imagine the scene...... it was beautiful, and I smiled just at the thought of it. And it was a smile accompanied with a tinge of wistfulness.

Somehow the picture in my mind leapt to a time when that same friend taught me the waltz back when I was in New Zealand four years ago. I was awkward and embarrassed by my two left feet. And it was a memory I had forgotten until the post showed up.

It was here in this gazebo where I learnt to do the waltz

It was incredibly peaceful and there was no one around to make me feel self-conscious. I was tripping myself most of the time though bahah and me being me, I was hard on myself, "why can't I get this damn sequence right?!?!" My friend didn't seem to care though, he'd take my hand and yank me in the right directions.

And we'd dance,

till dusk.

I took all these pictures knowing that I'll forget..., and if I can have just so much as this little bit of feeling and memory as I'm whisked back in time, I'm satisfied. And happy.

Then sometimes regret would follow suit, because I'd wonder if I was ever present enough in that moment.

Because a moment in time, is time lost forever.