Well it's in the teens outside and every time my heater clicks on I wish I were some place warm.
I want to stick my feet in the sand and feel the warmth of the sun kiss my skin. I want to see roofs of thatched palm and drink my drink from a half coconut with an over-sized umbrella sticking out with overly tanned natives running about in less clothing than I.
I want to have water close enough to smell every
sweet wave and hear them as they crash upon the soft shore. Water an unbelievable shade of blue green, touching sand so light in color that only a mythical creature could have graced the world with such a color combination.
The warmth of the sun should bake my blood to a temperate that belittles all lesser temperatures to the depths of frozen hell. The breeze should carry the heady scent of expensive sun oils and fresh foods grilled in open markets, forcing me to want every morsel until I cannot eat another bite or I'd become too heavy to float in the salty sea.