On a lazy rainy Saturday afternoon

This past Saturday at a quarter past noon, while having a peaceful moment at home lounging on my comfortable reading chair, a dark cloud was hovering over my house, and it started to rain. I remember almost feeling regret dividing my attention between the awe-inspiring sensation of just soaking it all in—the sudden wind, the sound of the rain, the ozone smell—and taking the time to write about it. And if I add my dog Snowy sitting on the back of my chair licking my neck, it gets surreal.

Not too long before, on that same morning, while going for a ride on my old Austin Healey, I had felt being bathed with nostalgic memories. It was like a pure sense of well-being—of feeling fortunate and not without immense gratitude for the all-pervading spirit of those spontaneous bouts of special moments and sensations. I thought: "How priceless is all this... just to be alive, just to be able to feel at all becomes a joyful experience.” Some sensations were new, and some were memories of a peculiar indescribable instant from the past—but priceless!