Memories are like doors simply waiting to be opened by thoughts.
During depressing Winter mornings the sweet nostalgic moments, inspired by memories can whisk me away to another place and time. A place where the gentle breeze from the Ocean on a warm beach or the comforting touch of another can illuminate my soul.
During the night when I am alone I often stare out the window and look at the dim street lights and peer harder into the ebony darkness and begin to create what lays beyond. The bleak streets and dim street lights are a canvass in which I begin to create elaborate worlds. It is only then in another world that I can drift into a comfortable slumber.
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