Isn't memory a wonderful thing?
When you're alone you can think of those you cherish, and mull over the special moments you shared.
And on these gloomy wet days when it hardly seems to get light,
I find myself thinking of warmer climes.
Somewhere the skies are blue and balmy and there's laundry billowing in the breeze.
Someone is relaxing under an umbrella...
... stirring a deliciously stylish cup and consulting a map.
Just the thought of those colors makes me feel warmer...
... and I find myself mentally planting next summer's window boxes.
Shall I use several small pots or one larger wooden one?
Geraniums alone or trailing ivies and lobelia?
I cup my hands around a steamy mug and think warm, sunny thoughts.
In the middle of winter, I find those memories very sustaining.
