Sometimes after a burst of rain, the aroma hovering in the air is a bit brackish, like the deltas of some far flung place. Sometimes because of a bowl of tasty noodles, sometimes because of a song whose name escapes you, and sometimes because it is as if it's a dream scene, we suddenly stay put, unable to move. It is all because our minds are stuck in that moment of remembrance, our memories left following unhindered into the vast reaches of the present. We sigh, smile, cry, just desperately wanting to capture the time of what was. Desiring to use our skin once more to reach back and feel again, to use the pores to breathe the air.

The memories are far too ingrained in the skin to return once more.

All related to the mind and emotions, are the majestic feelings of a sensitive soul. Rain washing the streets, walls covered with climbing plants, and the aircraft out of the window of the sky, those early morning mists, sadness and pride, all of the feelings a photograph tries to express. This too is but a growing record of the rapid lose of time. We almost certainly forgot those vague fragments of the original that are still clearly there. They are still clearly there.

Remember the passage of time, remember the day when I was standing on the roof, air moisture, wind, tightening the skin of perception.