What is one to do with a question like this? How many days we cherish. How many spots of time define us. How our hearts yearn to revisit those spots of time. Could it be those vacation days with family? Could it be that day we were married? Could it be that distant day in the woods alone before nature’s altar? All those days cry out to be relived. I see a day on Iron Mountain when the children and I arrived during a storm. We huddled in the truck waiting for a break in the weather and then traversed Bok Tower Gardens and fed the squirrels and watched the goldfish in the dark waters. It was, alas, but a break in the storm.
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