I still remember the sound of the smooth river stones rubbing against each other as my feet pressed against the ground. I still remember the yellow and white jasmine flowers falling effortlessly to the ground as the wind rushed past the leaves and branches of the trees. I remember the feeling of the smooth yet worn marble floors on the soles of my feet as I walked between the colonnades. I remember the piercing sound of the crows wailing at each other. It was a reminder of the discord the existed in the outside world. The archways and the corinthian columns became a physical representation of the peace and solace my mind had from those thoughts here. As my eyes became fixed on the city I noticed the how cars on Carmel Avenue rushed past each other, as if they were numb to the beauty of the mountain. The cargo ships, enormous in size, were comparable to tiny stokes of paint on the ocean and sky’s shared canvas. As my gaze went past the sky I felt a sense of singularity, as if of all the places on the entire planet, of all the moments in time, I was supposed to be standing here. One step at a time I approach the white metal doors, my hand skimming across the coarse stone walls as I slowly paced. The rough brown stone and the smooth white metal provided a stark yet delightful contrast just as the city itself and the surrounding gardens provided that same contrast. The smell of rose water radiated out of the door, as if the molecules themselves infused with a special happiness, a happiness which I also shared.
I still remember the weight and sound of the door, as I slowly pulled it closed.
