In my mansion of memory, this will hold court in the Japanese garden

Sometimes when I'm out on a stroll, I like zero in on a particular sight, scent, or other moment tied to one of the senses and memorize everything thing I can about it so that later on I can recall it quickly when I’m having a bad day or when I just need a second to peacefully relax. What follows is a recording of the important details I recall from Sunday’s walk:

The way the water flowed naturally in and out of deep ridges cut over several centuries in the rock floor along the beach.

The outline of that perfectly balanced rock you fashioned on the cliff and the way it stood against the backdrop of the sky.

The soothing rhythm of the Kalapuya drum and the way your wrist bounced back and forth.

The wide ringlets in your hair that shone beneath the February sun and seductively called to me.

The smell of your hair as I buried my nose in the back of your neck.