As I lay here horizontally across the foot of my bed, feet covered with my duvet, looking out the window as snow flurries dance around in -1 degree Celsius weather (30 degrees Fahrenheit), I can’t help but think about how grateful I am for warmth. There was a time in my life I lived with absolutely evil (and cheap) roommates, who purposely turned off the heat in the dead of winter. I recall promising to myself that when I got my own home, I would never skimp on life’s simple comforts like heat. I’ve worked too hard not to be comfortable in my own house. So although I am happy in my warm house on a chilly day here in Toronto, I can’t help but define this topic of warmth, with this photograph taken a while back in Varadero, Cuba. The epitome of warmth, both mentally and physically, for me is laying, carefree on a beach, watching and listening to the music of the waves, and drinking the energy of the sun’s heat and rays. So on a cold November evening in Toronto, this, is where I find warmth.