Have you ever read a book, where you can almost insert yourself in the pages, making yourself a part of the story? This is a variation of that…
I am a time traveler… not in the way you think! Actually, I don’t believe in time travel, but I’ve found a way to do it, in my own mind. I can place myself in a familiar location at any point in the past. I do this from time to time, placing myself in solitary locations… places like Comm Hill… where I can feel the warm breeze on my face as I look out over the valley toward the school… I can see the lake in the distance and hear the sound of a solitary motorcycle down shifting as it climbs the hill from the base of the children’s home to the commissary. I smell the warmth of the llanos … a slight hint of smoke mixed with an earthy decay of the jungle. I can hear the drone of an airplane off in the distance… I see wispy white clouds with a sky-blue backdrop and hear the occasional buzz of a bug, as it flies by. The day drifts by and when evening comes, I can hear the ebb and flow of the howlers in the distance. I am at peace … I have no place to be…. nothing to get done… but I know, if I linger here too long, a sense of loss will overcome me, as I realize those I hold close to my heart, can never join me. So, I breathe in, and hold my breath as long as I can before I leave.
I visit places often …sometimes I’m on the lake in a canoe … with the sounds….. the paddle pushing through the water as I make my way up the inlet…. or turtles, scurrying off the logs and into the water, as I drift down the outlet on a muggy day… two different worlds! I can see the parrots flying overhead and then descending into their nightly roost, along side egrets, who have already taken up camp on the islands. Sometimes, I’m walking down a road in a driving rain on a hot day, with no shirt on… raindrops so big, they actually hurt when they hit my back… sometimes it’s in a cold drizzle on an overcast day, with cold bare feet making their way from one puddle to another. At times I find myself stretched out on the raft, in the sun… when my cutoffs start to dry, I know it’s time to dip back into the water… the water is warm… but as I swim deeper, I can feel the coolness of the depth. Time seems to stand still. I swim back to the surface and climb onto the raft, and the cycle repeats. I am at peace. Sometimes, I can smell the aroma of freshly baked sweet rolls from Aunt Margret’s kitchen on an early Sunday morning, or breathe in the musty smell of paint inside a classroom on a hot humid day, or capture the subtle taste of freshly cut wood from the carpentry shop’s sawdust pile and then walk through the pungent smell of damp rotting leaves from the jungle floor, as I silently make my way down a secluded jungle path …. none of these escape my senses. With every breath, I am taken to a different place.
I know where the mango trees, the cashew trees, the guava trees, the jungle ice cream trees, and the sweet cherry tomato bushes are. I know when to visit them. The paths through the jungle and across the plains connecting me to everywhere I’d ever want to go, are mapped out in my mind. I can feel the grit and the heat of the arrecife on the soles of my feet, and the coolness of the clay as it pushes up through my toes. It is a paradise, but it is a lonely place… the sensations are hollow because they can’t be shared….… I can only visit here alone… I can only tell others about my visit, because I alone, am the only one who can time travel in my own mind.
Phillip Good (From the heart of an average MK person)
Remnant's Edge 
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