The sunflowers seemed to dance as she stared at their beauty through her
tilted wine glass. She drew in the oak like aromas before taking her last sip.
With her eyes closed, she was taken back to her trip to the vineyards. She vowed
to return but leaving now was not an option. She would have to settle for her
memories. Grabbing her satchel off the nail behind the back door, she headed
towards the garden, her special space. There she would dream of Italy, the vineyards,
the people and the one she left behind. With the sun warming her face, she pulled
her hardback journal from the satchel and begin to write. Would this, too, be
her next adventure?