The days I dream of

What lies within....

These are the kinds of days I dream of. A cup of coffee with so much milk it's bordering on being latté, a fire in the pellet stove, and foggy, rainy and cold weather outside.

I dream of this in July, when I'm out in the garden covered in flies and sweat.

I dream of this in October, when I'm still out in the garden, covered in flies and sweat.

Everyone has a weather fantasy they play out in their minds time after time when they're far away from living it, either due to geography or due to the time of year it is. I have one friend who dreams of a perfect Hawaiian day, 75 degrees with puffy white clouds in the sky and the air smelling of flowers. She grew up in Honolulu and longs to return to the islands. I have another who dreams of being snowed in at his parents' Connecticut home, forced to the comfortable sofa in front of the fireplace because there's literally nowhere else to go and nothing that can be accomplished. Sure, the snow thrower is beckoning, but it can wait for a couple of hours, because it's a holy time for my friend. 

For me, my weather fantasy comes true between the months of November and February, but only if it's a day when I have nothing pressing to do, and only if it's cold enough to light the pellet stove. Then I can relax, watch the clouds or rain come in (we have a great view of storms coming in from our hilltop)  and huddle in front of the stove with a warm drink and just my thoughts to keep me company. 

I sometimes read, other times I pray a prayer of thanks for just making it to this time of year again, as if the other eight months is the penance I must partake in so I can have this piece of heaven. I usually have some specific music on, usually a "winter solstice" mix station on internet radio, which plays music appropriate to a stormy day somewhere in the latitudes of the mid-50's (where I, sadly, am not, but fantasize I am on dark days such as these).

What's your weather fantasy -- the place you return to again and again with anticipation and pleasure, year-round, in your mind? What does it thrill you to wake up, look out the window and see the sky, the trees and the landscape doing? Are you back in your parents' house tucked in safe and warm on a cold Christmas morning, or on an endless beach alone, or someplace else?

What lies beyond.