It is springtime as I sit on a bench in the park of my childhood. I close my eyes, take a breath in and begin to allow my senses to be flooded. The west wind exhales ever so gently, the current, like a lover filled with pure emotion, lightly kisses my face and runs her smooth hands through my hair. So sweet is the scent of flowers that is carried by the breeze, an essence Calvin Klein would beg to have. I never thought a fragrance could be so cleansing to my mind, a natural aromatherapy that could ease even Tommy DeVito’s anger. Rustling leaves in the trees as the wind passes through reminds me that it is not long till they will cover the ground beneath my feet. The faint sounds of the last few birds can be heard, singing a song of happiness, as if they had never known sorrow. As I open my eyes, I am blinded for a second but soon it all comes to me; the shifting colors, some bright some dark; birds perched in trees while geese fly overhead in their victory formation. The clouds reflect off the surface of the water and the waves softly come to the water’s edge. Turning like wheels, the leaves roll with the wind, stopping occasionally as if reconsidering its path, but continues on ahead. I stand up and bury my hands into my coat pockets, making my way to the stone bridge that runs over the most narrow part of the eight-shaped pond. Evidence of weathering and use is apparent as many stones bear many colors and marks. Stopping at the apex, I look out across the water and take everything in. It seems as though the park as a whole is in sync, each thing moving with the rest, independent yet unified. This the most peaceful time I have known in my life.I leave with only a memory, a memory that will forever stay with me, a reminder that even when it seems as though the whole world has gone mad, there will always be a place where I can find sanctuary, peace, and harmony.