I am opposing the weather. Snow? Snow that stays? What?! So I am opposing this blasphemy against the natural course of the seasons. What are the weather gods thinking? So. How can I oppose the weather? Stand and shake my head woefully and insist that it scoot? Go away? Shoo? Do I oppose the weather by shaking my fist at it while I shout inane foul words at it? I fear that this is not the path to success. The weather gods oppose me by just, well, just carrying on. We are so tiny and our fists and curses even smaller they hear us not. If they, by chance hear our flailing efforts, they simply flick our voices away as they would a speck of uninteresting dust. Humpf!

Still, I insist on opposing the weather. I have found a way that warms my insides so I glow. Watch out – the heat is intense. The weather gods be damned!

I found a special place today. A place uniquely mine. I had to travel far to reach it, though it took only a split second, a snap of my fingers if you will, and I was there. Wonder of wonders, lo’ and behold, the sun is shining. The late afternoon heat still present after a generous sun played in the sky above through the day. I can feel the heat, inside. My son is laughing and running, pulling me by my hand. I’ve travelled not only to a warmer clime but to a different space in time as well.

A tapestry is unfolding – the colours are warm and enriching, a diverse palet of earthy colours – russet red, radiant yellow, deep purple, sage green, rose pink and ochre. Sounds of people shopping, debating, friendly chatter over the price of a glass of honey, birds commenting on life in general and grasshoppers, the size of your ring finger chirping. The sounds float onto the tapestry accompanied by the tantalising smells of lavender, wild thyme and roasting chickens on a spit. I remain, eyes gently closed, in this special place to see the smiles and friendly waves, taste the ratatouille made of purple aubergines, deep green zucchinis, red, yellow and orange peppers, purple (not red) onions, fragrant garlic and the reddest of red tomatoes (the ones that taste of the sun.) The tapestry comes alive with the smell and colours of the earth, the taste of the local wine poured into a thick glass tumbler from a jug and the sound of the wind in the olive grove. I linger a while over my bowl of café au lait fending off the world outside, the world of grass now white with snow. The blackbirds huddling in the hedge, all puffed up to keep warm. I love spring but today I escaped. Mmmmmm, the warmth stays with me when I open my eyes. The weather and its creator I have conquered for today and the key? A cup of coffee with warm, frothy milk and a delicious slice of fresh sourdough bread spread with apricot jam. A scrumptious key to a wonderous memory portal.

Bon appetit!