The warm summer breeze carried the perfume of the purple lilacs to my nose as I stood staring out into the summer sunlight.  I inhaled the scent as if I would never smell the flower again.  I bird called from the branch of a nearby pine tree, and somewhere deep into the shadows of the woods, another echoed back.  The sunshine called to me, and I stepped barefoot out onto the soft grass of our side yard.  The grass and earth sank down beneath my feet as I walked down the hill to the backyard.  Cicadas created a song that filled the air, making the very breeze sound alive.  A grey squirrel dropped from a tree and darted across the ground in front of me.  I watched it bound away to the other side of the yard and make its way up another maple.  The breeze through the green leaves of the trees made it sound as if I were staring at the ocean, not my backyard.  I was home.