Where All The Wild and Feverish Ideas Hop About

The grayness of the days has dulled my lens...there where all the wild and feverish ideas hop about, it is cloudy and they can only hop like turtles and complain. I need the SUN.

With my face to the sun....

• I blossom, my excited face grins and I can not speak fast enough to get it all out.
• tension melts away like butter on the stove.
• I am content.
• I can find the beauty of the day.
• Ideas swirl, roll and evolve and I want to try a million new things and then share them with you..

With my face to the sun...

• I am transported to my youth...I can smell the geraniums, and the dusty books, and molasses cake as I sit on my grandmother's porch reading and basking in the sunshine.
• I can almost smell the roses and the lilacs.
• I am kissed by the sea.

With my face in the sun...

• I am renewed...

Please come back, Mr. Sun.