It’s hard to think of things to write when regular doses of NyQuil have turned your brain to mush. In my brief waking hours I ingest Cepacol, Halls, cloves, ginger, pepper, and honey to soothe my throat and ease my congestion. The rest of the time, this “mush” takes me to a happy place…
Where I float above Haleakala…
Laze in Punta Cana…
Breeze through Interlaken…
Find a rainbow in Kauai….
Bask in the glow of the setting sun in Negril…
Stomp through the brush in South Africa…
Soar over the peaks of Schilthorn…
Sing in the meadows of Switzerland…
And rest my soul in Banff…
Peace.
Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2010 Mansi Bhatia
You might also enjoy:
My happy place is the corner nook in the Joseph Beth Bookstore. It’s a an odd angle over by the poetry section where you can sit undisturbed for hours and browse books.
When I die, leave my body there.
Tirz
lucky you…but I will travel all over the world and that’s a promise…:)
My happy place….just don’t know
Aw, this is great. I had a happy place once – called Wrabness. I spent many happy moments there in childhood. I need a new happy place! I might borrow some of yours