Scarves

As I was folding scarves to place in my new dresser last night, I travelled abroad in my mind and took a walk down memory lane.

The blue one with the swallows. I bought it to remind me of the annual air dance the swallows did for me in  September outside of my flat window when I lived outside of London. They came early last year so I could see them before I left.

The newsprint one with the Union Jacks. My career and where my career took me. I bought that one at the train station in Windsor. Windsor is where I got my picture taken with the palace guard - a bucket list item for me.

The black and white one Pauline gave me for Christmas when we travelled on a walking holiday to Sicily. I walked on Mount Aetna on Christmas Eve whilst there. And I also saw the most beautiful Roman/Green ruins with the sea and shoreline behind in Taormina.

The periwinkle and butterfly one I bought at a street market in Florence as a head covering so I could enter the churches.

The brown and pink camouflage one from Lea. I don't usually do brown, but this one is beautiful and suits me.

Then there are the ones I wore all the time that I purchased on High Street, below my flat - the grey/pink one, the pastel plaid one, the salmon/blue one. The list is endless.

Another High Street favourite was the white one that I wore in the warmest of places and sometimes used it as first aid for overheated walkers. It certainly cooled me down and warmed me up more than once.

I have my black and white and red and black ones from one of the many street markets my daughter and I visited in London.

Summer ones to add colour to a t-shirt. Denser ones to hold the dampness at bay.

There's the turquoise, black and silver one from Hazel. My colours to be sure. Soft and shimmery.

Every time I wear these, I wrap myself in memories.