Scents of olden days

I was walking with my dog today at the park, and Samson was just running ahead of us for a little bit. All of a sudden, my mind went to this old memory where I’m standing. It must have been 1998 or 1999, at a book fair or something similar. There’s a book I pick up; it’s like a textbook about the history of California. I wish I could find it now, but the only thing I remember from it is an illustration depicting Native Americans. For some reason, it gave me this feeling like they were in a valley and a man is looking up. Because of the illustration, it seems very colorful, but you don’t know what it is actually depicting. I don’t remember much about it. Every time I think about that, it sort of fast-forwards in my mind to a couple of years later while I was in Pakistan. I’m in a small valley, and there’s greenery, birds chirping, and it's very peaceful. It got me thinking about how time is such an abstract concept, that in those few seconds while I’m walking in the park, I think of…