"I hid my heart in a nest of roses"

I have fallen a little ill. Winter chills I suppose. I have been layering on sweater after sweater, knee high socks and drinking ubiquitous amounts of tea to hinder the cold. Wrapped in blankets and ribbon braiding my hair as I sleepily watch Audrey Hepburn films on the television, falling asleep and waking up at the early hours of dawn to my mother's brewing her coffee and the birds singing, they like to perch on our windowsill as if to wake us up and graciously give them some seeds.

Here is a little mood-board of a past beautiful life. Of old things, once beloved and meant to be re-loved again until they become dust in our hands and swept by the wind. I am waiting for the warmest bowl of porridge to cool so I may devour it like a bear. My father brought me pink roses and I want to press them so I can keep them forever, within a treasure chest. I do wish I could step into these images like Lucy and her siblings did in the wardrobe, leading them into Narnia. I wonder where these images would lead me to. Seldom do I not dream..