Door of perception

The carved wooden entryway was open. I followed my childhood into it. Memories leaped out. Tropical trees, the rustling of the breeze passing through, heavy rains in stone gutters and the turtle, our pet, that lived there. I saw my mother, and my dad passed through. My brother and I racing around the garden. There were mangoes and rice and crispy fish. Smells wafting, drifting, familiar.