Mother Nature slipped into my memory today while I bent to my task in the yard.
Deep blue at the top of the sky has followed me over prairies, plains and mountains.
Warm sun on my face remembered
summer times past in different and distant homes and places.
Strumming guitar and a soft singing voice floated on stillness and awakened springtime here at home.
Good humour blossomed with each of these snapshots, little trips that made my heart glad.
Memories, like this fading camellia, will bloom again with each turn of the season.
“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”
~ Oscar Wilde
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