This picture of our huge pine tree was taken last winter during the holidays. This tree all lit up instantly takes me back to my childhood and the wonder I felt when I got up before anyone else was awake and sat in the dark, staring at the lights on our Christmas tree. Those times evoked a feeling of warmth and safety. Gazing at the lights on our pine tree takes me back to that place. It’s instantaneous nostalgia. So much of writing is born from a place of nostalgia. We give the times we long for a second birth so that others can share in the wonder of our wonder years. I can’t imagine what the world of literature would be without nostalgia. This is the privilege of writers – to take readers back to the times and places they long for with words that bring their yesteryear to life once again.

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