I’m at my favorite summer snowboarding haunt, gazing out at the wide-open alpine terrain. My skin prickles inside my snowsuit with anticipation. I take a deep breath, crank up my music, and launch into my flight down the mountain.
The fresh air gives me a headrush as I carve effortlessly through the pristine snow. It’s the perfect ride. But then, I feel myself losing control. I’m tumbling. It’s like I’ve been falling forever when I finally roll to a stop. The music is gone. I’ve lost my earphones along the way. The silence is even louder than the blasting of my songs. Nearby, I see an entrance to a cave. I unclip from my board and walk in. Massive crystalline salt formations sparkle in the dimly lit space.

The air itself is cool, dry, and saline. I reach out to touch the salt wall but the ground gives out beneath me. The next thing I know, I’m enveloped by warmth. Steam rises around me, filling the air with a metallic quality. When the mist clears, I realize that I’m standing in a hot spring, its crystal-clear water shining with minerals. Someone familiar emerges from the shadows. I know him but can’t name him. He hands me a thermos filled with a spicy, cardamom-scented drink. The taste takes me right back to my childhood. The tenseness in my shoulders melts away and I’m no longer confused about where I’ve landed. I take another long sip and breathe out.