memories of flowers — paper whites in a window, elegant, tall gladiolas, dried roses in a wooden bowl
this song: You’re No Good, the Linda Ronstadt version
these words: petrichor (thank you Brian) and elysian
black horses in my dreams, wild dogs, the woods and snow clouds
the sound of a relentless rain on a sleepless night
winter, spring, summer and fall sunsets — how different they look and how different they feel