This morning, over coffee, I was doing one of my favorite things. I was sitting and thinking. My eye caught the tail of mosquito netting hanging on my buffet. That took me back. I thought of beds in tropical locations, completely covered with the filmy stuff. The tropics, night noises, tree frogs and crickets and rain on the roof.
Then I started thinking of other scenes: an old manor house, a glossy winding staircase, fog, the moors.
I then think of Spanish moss and weeping willow trees, flowy dresses and long shiny hair.
I'm having fun now. I see an old car driving down a lonely stretch of highway. I see a man with a trench coat and fedora.
I see safari hats, more gauze and I hear the trumpet of elephants.
I see two young men wearing frilly shirts and slicked back hair jumping here and there in a sword fight.
All of a sudden, it occurs to me that probably all of these things that give my heart a certain excitement are nothing more than a bunch of cliches.
They are probably found in movies I have seen or books read. The funny part is, these elements are not necessarily in my favorite movies. What they have is a feeling - a feeling that draws me in and I want to be there. The plot doesn't matter, the people don't matter just now. All I care about is to be taken away and just BE in one of these memorable scenes. I just want to linger, I just want to look around. Then something will happen and I'll pay attention, but I've already had my treat. Everything else is secondary.
You know, sometimes I think too much. But as I go over my list of cliches, I realize there was a time when I first saw or pictured these things. Oh the richness - that was glorious!