It is a beautiful morning. The fog is gone. The sun is brilliant, and the sky is a deep blue with a few white clouds. The morning is already warm at 66˚. The temperature will pass 70˚ today. I have errands, and it is the perfect day to do errands and maybe take a ride along the ocean.

When I was a kid, I had no idea what I wanted to be, but I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to jump out of my geography book into real places, faraway places. The pictures in my geography book sent my imagination reeling. I could see myself standing on the mountain in Rio below the giant statue of Christ of the Andes. The statue with his arms outspread. Riding a camel in the desert seemed the height of adventure. I wanted to see old England and the castle of the queen. I wanted to eat strange foods. I wanted to wander.

From my grandparents house, we, my brother, my uncle and I, walked a couple of times to Logan Airport, not a short walk. We didn’t tell my parents. They would have said no so we just left. At the airport, I climbed to a roof observation deck where I could watch the planes. Logan back then was a sprawl of wooden buildings, mostly one story. I watched people walk on the tarmac from the planes to the terminals. Men pushed carts to the planes to unload suitcases. Everyone was well-dressed.

On one of my excursions to Logan Airport when I was around ten or eleven, I collect brochures from every stall and counter. When I got home, I spent hours and days cutting and then pasting pictures from the brochures into an album. It was my travel album, the chronicle of my imaginary journey. On every page were pictures of where I’d been, where I stayed and where I ate. I even wrote commentary. The pages were stiff and thick from the glue on the pictures. Sometimes the pages stuck, but it didn’t matter. I pored over those pages and saw myself everywhere.

I don’t know what happened to that album. I figured during a move it was tossed, but that didn’t matter. The album had come alive. Imaginary trips had become real trips. I had jumped from the pages of my geography books into adventures everywhere.

The morning is foggy and damp. A light mist is in the air. The prediction is for a high of 66˚, but right now it is only in the 50’s. Yesterday was a delight with bright sun and a clear blue sky. It was warm. I did deck work, clearing branches, leaves and the ubiquitous pine needles. Nala played keep-away with a toy from the house, a Santa which once was a Christmas ornament. That further cemented my decision not to have a tree last Christmas.

Some of the experiences and the joys in my life are permanently etched in my memory drawers, in one drawer especially, one drawer labeled Amazing.

I remember the field below my house. The grass was tall and turned brown quickly in the summer heat. I’d run through that field and watch the grasshoppers jumping in front of me. They were brown like the grass. I’d catch one in my hands then let it go. The grasshoppers left brown stains on my hands. I always thought it was grasshopper poop.

I remember sleeping outside in the backyard. I’d lie on my back and watch the sky hoping to see a shooting star. I usually did, and an out loud wow always followed. In Ghana, I saw a night sky filled with more stars than I’d ever seen. I saw shooting stars every night. I’d point and yell to my friends who were outside in their yard on the other side of the wall. Those nights sleeping outside were so spectacular I wanted to stay awake to watch the sky. I never did.

I remember standing with one foot in each hemisphere when I was in Ecuador. A small shack was beside the invisible equator. The man inside the shack sold postcards with the cancellation stamp reading equator. I send one to my parents. I sent them a postcard from every country I visited.

When I was a kid, I loved watching snow fall under the street light in front of my house. The flakes gleamed and shined. The light was a circle in the snow. It looked magical, a realm of fairyland.

Sunsets, fireflies, Christmas trees standing tall and bright with lights, the first colors of spring, the first sip of coffee in the morning, sheets smelling of sun and fresh air, dogs happy to see me when I come home, cozy clothes and summer breezes are joys in my life. I keep them safe in my memory drawer, in the one labeled Amazing.