Yesterday we went hiking on a beautiful trail here in the central coast. The weather was gorgeous and as we hiked I spotted something my mom showed me when I was younger. I don’t know what they are called, I will have to look it up, but she showed me how to make scissors out of this plant. It is funny how memories are such a part of our lives. What is even more amazing is how our memories work, what is it that we remember? Is it all truth or is it fashioned by what we want to believe to be a truth?
