On a lazy path covered with Jasmine and Silver Maples, I walk back in time. In the partial shade of over hanging tree limbs, I close my eyes and feel the cool southern breeze. I smell the ambrosia that fills the air as the blossoms from flowers and trees mix to form a perfume quite like no other. I open my eyes and I can see barefoot children running down a dirt path to a deep and slow moving creek. I see cane poles flopping in the wind and hear the sound of rocks skipping across the water. Trapped in the images of home, I fade with the memories and let myself get lost in time. I find myself at a no particular destination, far away from the rest of the world. I just sit on a log somewhere past nowhere in particular.