Dear Diary, you walk into a room, the wind is blowing. The light is fading on white quilt. The lace curtain is blowing. You are reminded that beauty is everywhere and that even the simplest of things can take your breath away. You remember that white on white on white is colour too. Shades of grey, and cream and white, all laid upon one another. It is like a dream.
You think I need to remember how beautiful this is. You go get your camera quickly. You wake up to your own life, seeing what there is to be seen.
You take the picture. It is still nothing like the memory, but my, it is lovely.