I’m dreaming of yellow, of swathes of daffodils dancing in the gentle spring breeze. Of primroses and crocuses, buttercups and dandelions glowing in the sunshine.
I’m dreaming of the smell of cut grass in the sun. The sound of lawnmowers and children playing outside. The sound of chatter drifting over fences, of people sitting in the sunshine.
I’m dreaming of blankets and rugs. Of soft springy grass on which to lay them and soak up the suns rays. Of picnic food and crumbs. Plastic beakers of juice and cups of tea in polystyrene cups. Sandwiches and cakes, ice creams and melting chocolate.
I’m dreaming of fat, bare baby legs crawling around sticking out of a vest. Of splashing in pools of glinting water. Of chuckles and squeals. Of chasing with suntan lotion and wrestling with hats.
I’m dreaming of the perfect morning, opening the doors and stepping into the stillness of the garden with a steaming mug of tea in my hands. Of breathing fresh air. The silkiness of dew draped grass on the soles of my feet. Of silence and planning of the day ahead.
I’m dreaming of shared meals alfresco. Of dusting off the table and chairs, anchoring the umbrella, and finding that perfect spot. Of perspiring glasses of rosé wine. Crisp salads, refreshing fruits and meals made with the spoils of my husbands work in the garden.
I’m dreaming of pottering in the sunshine. Of walking between the raised beds full of growth and life. Of stealing peas from pods. Of deadheading flowers and breathing in the sweet scent of a trellis of sweet peas. Of water splashing on legs and feet as I try to water hanging baskets.
I’m dreaming of adventures. Of taking off with the wind streaming through open car windows, sunglasses protecting our eyes. Of discovering new places and interesting things. Of watching a small person grow and learn every day. Of bringing home treasures to show Daddy.
I’m dreaming of time spent in the garden as a family, watching my husband garden and teach Piran as he goes. Of teaching our baby to walk out on the lawn. Of smiles and laughter and big family hugs. Of quiet time as a couple when Piran is in bed, sharing wine and planning and dreaming.
I’m dreaming of holidays in Cornwall. Taking Piran to the beach. Building sandcastles and padding in the ice cold sea. Of sharing a pasty, chasing seagulls away from our chips. Sleepy worn out boys in pushchairs. Salty kisses between my husband and I. Of Piran getting to know his Grandparents and being spoilt rotten.
I’m dreaming of a million memories yet to be made.
I’m thankful for everything that I have.