I think back with fondness to my memories of the past. As a young boy, I recall the crunch underneath the soles of my shoes as I walked across the twinkling snow formed blanket of white in the darkened sky. Then I remember, as a teenager, the light drizzle of rain as I read a favorite book by a slightly opened window. As an adult I think long and hard to remember recent times of joy. My mind comes up empty yet again, so I turn to my memories of long ago.