The Memory Garden is a labyrinth; the paths are circular and wind ever-inward, separated by riotous beds of flowers. Great gnarled fig trees mark the cardinal directions and provide some shade, while thin, spindly evergreen trees, so common in the Mediterranean, poke up at intervals in the paths. In the center of the garden is a huge tiered fountain made from warm red sandstone.

Each flower in the Garden holds a memory of mine. Some beds are wild, tangled messes of exploding flowers, as some days are thick with things to remember. Some beds hold a week’s work of memories or more, as sometimes our lives are on a steady keel. And some beds are choked with heavy oleander, blooms brown and spotted with decay yet still hanging onto the vine. They are the memories I wish I could forget.

The Memory Garden symbolizes the posts about events and things that happen to me as I live my life.