Experience.

This is what I'd do with you today, if you were here:

I'd take you out to the Huntington Gardens. We'd ride bikes from my place, in Arcadia, out across San Marino through wide empty boulevards with tall shady trees, mansions set back from the road, winding our way towards our destination. Everything is quiet and beautiful- the sun is high and the air is clean, we're flying through a serene and unblemished lake filled with Southern California sun. By the time we get there we're both a bit sweaty and parched.

The gardens are spacious and vast. As we enter I talk too fast, detailing the different gardens, Japanese, Desert, Rose, Australian; I go on about the Coy pond, the lily pond, the tea house, and the galleries both Eastern and Western. When i begin about the libraries, I look at you and realize that all I want to do in this place I grew up in is lie down on the lawn and stare at the blue sky with you by my side.

Cycling home we laugh as we pick which mansions we'd choose if we could, weighing pros and cons as we melt into the sunshine, particles travelling through warm honeyed air.

Sight.