Only in dreams
A dream crossed of the list. On Saturday night. It was late. Much too late to be awake, really. I was wearing my favourite leopard leggings and a thick wool dress. And snow in my hair.
The thirty minute journey took slightly over two hours; a slid, a splash, and a couple of snowballs, tentatively thrown at me by J. who clearly spent his evening partying and not working.
But nothing can ruin the smell of snow. That scent made of burning firewood and damp earth. Quite indefinable, and yet I’ve just tried.
Some things are will never be different. Now onto the next dream. Cross your fingers for me.
Tuesday 7 February 2012
I love the way you write, really. It seems that things are vivid and real. Very beautiful sensation and feelings when I read you. Big hug.
Lucia a dit:Tuesday 7 February 2012
The smell of snow, the sound of snow: silently falling and becoming water on your coat.
Mary's Pastry Lab a dit:Thursday 9 February 2012
i’ve never seen snow in my life… but reading from what you write it must be really beautiful :)
cathy a dit:Monday 13 February 2012
a quick hello from mali! thanks for sharing all the snow you’re having up north. cathy
nancy a dit:Tuesday 14 February 2012
je croise les doigts! ;)) i like the way you write too