Day Whatever and a Half!

Now I have purged myself of the guilt of not posted daily, a weight has lifted, leaving me free to post as and when I feel like!
I've become interested in memories, why we remember some random words and images and why others moments are taken from us. I hold images from very early childhood, before the myelin had coated the synapses. Before all synapses had sprouted and flourished into a wild, unkempt garden and before Capability Brown had arrived with hedge clippers to trim the untidy mess and cultivate to a sculptural wonder.
If I close my eyes, I can see flashes of arbitrary images: the bumpy pattern on the wallpaper, a handful of orange-tinted dog fur, watching frost glittering on stone...so many haphazard pictures they become tedious in the rendition.
Yet, yesterday I saw a photograph: my sister and I with our Dad wedged between us, he is turning and looking affectionately at me. Long limbs stretch out in front as we sit on the floor and as I looked at him, I wondered why there are so many random images, but not one of that stranger's face.