Christmastime often takes us back to childhood, sparking memories with seasonal smells, sights, and sounds. Anne Cassidy's post today about Chincoteague, Virginia, pulled me back to winter afternoons wiled away indoors with a friendly sunbeam and one of Marguerite Henry's many horse novels that peppered my childhood with engrossing historical tales.
May all your Christmas memories this year be of the bright variety.
(So, I was just kidding about the swans yesterday. I know, juvenile of me.)