Hi Gabrielle!
Reading it's a gift. Some people will never know, but it is.
If you can travel, time and space, just reading, you are gifted.
We will never live in other times, in the past, or distant future. We probably won't travel space, or under the see, or to the center of the earth.
We will never met mystic creatures, heroes, knights , kings, starships, because they are (usually) just imagination.
But, after all, we can feel them. Then they're there. It's a kind of magic.
Blessed we are. We can live other lives. Dreams.
Not gossip or a tabloid news, but another reality, and make a connection to our ordinary life. Just to complement it and make it better.

Just in time, here, in the southern hemisphere, we're in the middle of spring, but I always remember a music of Art of Noise, Opus 4. Is it really this way?

Hugs,

Opus 4, Art of Noise - November, Thomas Hood, 1842

No sun - no moon!
No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day -
No sky - no earthly view -
No distance looking blue -
No road - no street - no "t'other side the way" -
No end to any Row -
No indications where the Crescents go -
No top to any steeple -
No recognitions of familiar people -
No courtesies for showing 'em -
No knowing 'em! -
No travelling at all - no locomotion,
No inkling of the way - no notion -
"No go" - by land or ocean -
No mail - no post -
No news fom any foreign coast -
No Park - no Ring - no afternoon gentility -
No company - no nobility -
No warmth, no cheerfilness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flow'rs, no leaves, no birds,
November!