(If you could split your time evenly between two places, and two places only, which would these be?)
I dream of sugar sand, palm trees, clear blue water warm enough to bathe in; I daydream about mild, salt-tangy breezes that lift the bangs off my forehead. I dream of a friendly sun that warms without burning. I hear soft, soothing music that calms without intruding. I hear the wash of breakers as they recede, sucking sand with them and leaving glistening pebbles and shells. I sink into the ennervating sleep of complete relaxation while all my muscles melt and the breeze riffles the pages of one of dozens of beach books lying beside me. As my eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, I’m treated to a show of dolphins in a synchronized water ballet, their sleek bodies sparkling with each rise and dip into the star-studded water.
In my ocean dream, I’m transported to a land of green hills and valleys, quiet Amish farms, dense copses of trees rich with the smell of rain. Azaleas are in full bloom, spilling over each other in ridiculous abundance, jewel-like colors blending into each other without discrimination. Flowering trees grace the deep blue skies, while tulips spread their glorious petals to gather in the sunshine. The living smell of freshly cut grass–and onion grass–fills the air with promise of new growth and rest from a long, grey, weary winter. I’m back in my little corner of Pennsylvania. loving the flowerful spring and the return of walking weather.