Morning light

Standing in the middle of the emptied living room of our new cottage early this morning, as I waited for the Home Depot consultant to measure our kitchen for some new granite countertops… wide-eyed and beguiled; waiting, and watching how the early light slanted across the lovely country like-church windows and gently shined through trees in my weed drowned garden outside…

 

The small living room, pristine and quiet and beautifully opening its invisible curtains to sunshine, like some operetta throwing its curtains aback for their ballerinas to come out and perform their magical dance of sunbeams and light and shadows on walls and smooth hardwood floors…

 

And how I love the look and feel of it all… the morning light; the way it slip quietly through windows and gaps, the way our little cottage seems to wake up in the morning singing… and I drawn into its embrace, not wanting to move or think or do, simply to be and contented with that moment of peace—the prospect of my little cottage waking up to the gift of the morning light.

 

I shall look for many more lovely mornings and magical beams of light glowing happily among our furnishings and things, and I shall remember that deep within our hearts, all dreams hold the light…