I woke up this morning dreaming of Taos. Not exactly sure what spurred those thoughts, but they were just there in my head - something must have triggered them. I have been racking my brain all morning trying to find the catalyst - to no avail. Usually really crisp, cold nights where the sky is a black canvas mottled with little flecks of white, shimmering paint brings my mind back to Taos. Or mornings when the air is biting and dry and the rays of sun are a welcoming warmth to the snowy landscape. But this morning it was cold, damp, windy and rainy - typical Rochester and even more so contrasting to New Mexico. Maybe it has been my need for the mountains or perhaps my anticipation of the winter snows and skiing. Not sure but I know I miss it. Maybe later the reason will come to me. I suppose for now I will just enjoy the files brought out by my memory banks.