Luckily, it’s not like riding a bike. That’s never gone well for me as an adult. After an unexpectedly long hiatus from building with stone, it does seem to be coming back to me.
I’ve missed that occasional whiff of sulfur when hammer and granite meet just right. Smells like a cap gun.
I’ve missed my hand cramping up on the drive home like it’s still gripping a chisel.
I’ve missed the hundred and one scrapes, cuts, and bruises that don’t even register when they occur but are impossible to miss on first contact with a shower.
I’ve missed the satisfaction when two big, heavy things, quite content where they were, fit together well.
I’ve even missed the frustration when they don’t.