Sometimes when I look at the world, I see it through words. I look at a mountain and wonder how I would describe it in writing. (I did this recently on a drive through a canyon in Utah and decided I would call the hills freckled; as in, they were freckled with rocks.) I look at a person and think, I would describe them as loose-limbed or something like that.
And some of my favorite memories I remember them by the way I described them in my journal. Is that weird?
I love it when my kids say things that I consider literary. Like, when my daughter was tiny, she was looking out the car window at the darkness beyond her safe little world, her head against her car seat, and said, "Look Mom! The moon is dancing!"
Isn't that exactly how the moon would look with your head bouncing along the road with the car? It was brilliant, and even with my forgettable memory I've remembered it.
Wait. What was I saying?