When we get home, the smell of smoke greets us from the backyard. It’s sunday and it’s barbecue day. There is music, cold drinks and the barks of a dog that can’t stand the smell of meat, sausages and dressings.
That’s the image that I have of Sundays back home. These memories are present in my mind all the time.
They look soft, warm, kind of blurry and not very saturated, just like the photo.
What do your memories look like?