I wish I could find those cowboy boots. They were my favorite boots of all time. I wore them every day and they just got better and better, Spanish leather. Boots of Spanish Leather. What a great song. I’m sitting in front of a wild daisy patch and those are the Benimussa Hills and an olive tree. I can’t go back in time. Or can I? If I look at this picture long enough, I’m there with little Myshkin on that chair, rooted, planted, a transplanted soul. I can smell the rosemary and the wild sage on the hills, I can smell the earth and the sun and the sea, Memory! I am what I was, I’m what I was still, I’m still what I always have been.