As late afternoon began to take hold, a light rain fell on the yard where I took my cat out for some leisure time. My mind was many miles away – or at least the greatest part of it was.

It was about 250 miles away, to be more specific. Google Maps noted that as the shortest route between where I stood on October 6 and the grounds of Keeneland, winding down its first day of the fall meet at that time I was outside.

It was warm and sunny there in Lexington – warm where I stood too, but overcast, and like another world.

The lyrics of a Paul Simon song flowed through my mind as I thought of the track I love and felt a little wistful not being near it.

Those lyrics are:

“And all the old hymns and family names

came fluttering down

leaves of emotion

As nothing is different, but everything’s changed”

Once I didn’t understand the contradiction in that last line. Yet over time, I think life can showing us how nothing can be different and yet things can change. It’s likely changed perceptions, changed lives, that do this.

Nothing’s different? Not at all, when I look across my memories and feel all the excitement of a Keeneland opening day like I never left.

Everything’s changed? In a lot of ways – I’ve jumped states, altered living arrangements, changed jobs and even life goals. To rebuild, sometimes that is necessary.

Finally starting to regain my footing, it is a bit easier to endure not being near Keeneland. Yet I know why the wistful feeling swept over me – I will likely miss all of this fall’s meet and the rhythm of my Aprils and Octobers will not be about Keeneland attendance without fail.

Yet such a love as I have for that track can never be diminished by miles or time apart. It lives in me.