The Terrain of Memories

I’m here now, in this place, this park. Such tranquil beauty. A place for happiness, for wonderful memories, but not only for me. It is a portal of sorts. Where I am transported into a memory wormhole, back through time. My father took me here. His father, my grandfather, took him here. They played. I remember my father telling me. And I took my son here, we laughed. And now I run after my grandson here, and roll around on the grass. We are linked to places where we climb up and down the peculiar terrain of our memories. We are people of places that mark our territories, that connect the stream of our memories across generations.