How delicate, how frivolous this world is when it is at the mercy of our perception. It is so awkward coming back to this place- much more so then when discovering new cities or spaces- and recognizing the change it has undergone yet experiencing a feeling of unease, knowing I've been here before, suspiciously questioning why it feels as if I never left. The sun is brighter than I remember it, though; I don't ever recall the harsh sunlight being this unbearable. The inhabitants affected by this heat, however, respond in the way I remember; excitement for the day disintegrates into grainy lethargy, and I remember the unpalatable task of seeking shade just to pine for activity once resting. It's amusing coming back, going back, leaving, returning, doing all the things we do in a lifetime: discovering new places, growing around them, leaving and remembering them not as they were but as we thought them to be, as we wished them to exist in memory. My warped memory has not changed Salt Lake; the city has not molded to my various memories, after all, and I return to a place independent of the emotional associations I once thought so important. It's quite comfortable here, actually.

Today Rob took me to an organ recital on Temple Square. He has turned into such a hospitable gentleman; yesterday, late in the evening when Mum, Will and I returned from the airport, at a time I thought everyone was asleep, Rob and Rick kindly greeted me and immediately rushed me off for a late dinner at Denny's (Rob treated; I just bought a pricey computer and can't spend a dime). It is edifying to speak with my darling brothers, to talk maturely to them about whatever currently consumes them and still be silly and absurd. I feel as if I have found a friend that our incessant, childish bickering hid from me before. I have high hopes for this visit- and perhaps that's my first mistake- but I honestly think this will be a delightful holiday, and I don't think I'll find myself quibbling with my brothers or mum. The house looks lovely, and I'm currently sitting outside on the charming patio, typing on Rob's laptop. I am protected from the brutal sunlight, a gentle breeze creeps up onto porch to cool me, and occasionally I look up to see a biker whizzing down the winding road. As I said: it's quite comfortable here, though that's not exactly the way I remember it.