There was a time when I lived on a small Caribbean island. It was always around 85 degrees. The sun was out 12 hours a day, every day. It was physically impossible to be further than 5 miles from a beach. The beaches were white sand and the water was turguoise. You could wander down the trail out back and find a wild mango tree. There was a field of lemon grass down the way so that when it rained (which, admittedly was very rare) it smelled like lemons. Lemons. And if wasn't going to rain, which it wasn't, you could go grab a handful of grass and make a tea. And then that smelled like lemons.
And then I moved back to Minnesota. Which has its wonders. But. today. is. gray. So was yesterday. So will be tomorrow. And it doesn't smell like lemons. Ever.
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