To Weston Call, and those who you left a mark on… For you, I will live in this shell more intently.

In this shell, we are gifted five, some believe six, ways to experience a moment.

To hear… the waves crash on the shore, the songs of the birds echoing across the canyon, the ripple of water splashing around polished stones, the car horns on Broadway, the elevated NRQW subway train careening around the corner, the warning of a venomous snake, the unrestrained laughter from your best friend, the sobs of a stranger in the girl’s bathroom, your heart when it breaks in two.

To taste… the sweetness of the thick cold fog, the herbaceous dew drops sucked off spring tips on the redwood branches, the creaminess of your grandmother’s cooking, the saltiness of a mouth full of ocean, the bitterness of an unripened fruit, the salty lick of your lover’s skin, the savory burning on your tongue.

To smell… the wet floor of the forest, the cinnamon buns baking in the oven, the apple pie your mother made, the meat on the grill your father is manning, the sweetness of pines under a full moon, the skillet of bacon crackling in your first home, the abundance of sagebrush in our secret mountains, the lingering spice of tobacco on your fingers.

To touch… the droplets of water from above, the caress of your lover, the shaves of sand holding on to your skin, the soft blades of grass beneath your feet, the coat of your favorite pet, the embrace of your loved ones, the pounding of the waves against your chest.

To see… the smiles across the faces of strangers, the green flash over the ocean, the milky way in the dark Big Sur sky, the lights illuminating the coziness of the houses in your neighborhood, the autumn colors, the golden grass in the wind, the desert at sunset, the lock of curls brushing her shoulder, the new kittens chasing their tails.