Tonight I dream

Late February and the only outdoor light is from the corner street that has blinked off and on for years. I'm almost convinced it's a motion sensor but not quite as I know our “power boys” aren't that swift at replacing defective bulbs. I digress. The landscape is cold and not pleasant for friend nor foe and therefore I dream.

I dream of the aroma from freshly turned earth, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance of acacia, listening to the soft chortles from pondering frogs, seeking out fireflies flitting about in the foliage, wrapping myself in the fresh air blowing in from windows wide open, becoming lost in soft illuminating lights and lit candles, soaking in the sounds of birds singing vespers to their babes, becoming overwhelmed in the lushness of the garden while walking barefoot along the path and gazing in wonderment at shooting stars overhead in my Eden.

Spring can't be too far off...