When I wish to remember something, there are two ways in which this can happen.
I can recall a person, place, event or whatever it may be as a normal memory in my mind; that is, one in my head which may have colour, sound and motion. An instant replay version if you will, a past scene being re-enacted. I can pull these types of memories to the forefront of my mind and think about them any time I choose.
The other types of memories I hold are of feelings; the emotional state of mind that I have at the time I am experiencing something. These aren’t the type of memory that I can instantly repeat or reply, after all I simply can’t make myself have a repeated feeling no matter how hard I might try; that’s not how these things work. On the other side of that, I might not even realise that something has had such a profound effect on me at the time. However, if these feelings are strong enough when they occur and imprint my mind, I find can often lead to a profound sense of déjà vu at times, where I’ll stop in my tracks and try to work out why I have the sense that I have felt this exact same way before.
And that’s precisely what happens to me one mid-afternoon as I cycle around the small town of Grand Marais, Michigan, perched on the shores of Lake Superior.