A parking lot is an album of cars. A book is an album of letters and words and pages and chapters and unfathomable meanings and ink. A garden is a collection of flowers. A year is a collection of seconds and minutes and hours and days and weeks and months and time. The universe is a collection of stars. A city is an album of buildings, each individual house holding a quiet power and a little plot of land to their own, connected with roads, the people, history, culture, and beliefs, something time and wars can never take away. You are an album made of albums. Your hands are albums of fingers, your mind an album of thoughts, your heart an album of feelings and beliefs.