Beautiful experiences are like cherished pieces of seasonal clothing.
I remember, as a little girl, I used to bury my face in my Dad’s wardrobe when he was away on a theatre tour, searching for the familiar scent of him among his shirts, replaying his Swan Lake violin solo in my mind.
Some seasons leave us, but they never truly disappear. We can still open the wardrobe and breathe in their fragrance whenever we need it.
