As dawn approached, she opened the thin screen door and guided it closed behind her as to not let it slam shut. She sat in the wooden rocking chair on her porch, soft from years of use, three generations and counting. She set her coffee down on a small table next to her. Now having a free hand, she pulled her bundle closer to herself and opened the blanket so slightly as to not wake the sleeping babe. Dawn was soon approaching and with it, another day to thank the Lord for the teeniest of miracles.
Wind air blew her hair slightly, cool from the pond down the hill. A sweet musty smell of corn and earth rose with the morning dew. While others were rushing their day, she spent each morning in a reflective, quiet rest. Rocking slowing and patting her little one, she looks down again.
When I envision a peaceful place, this is what I see. I miss the country, the sounds and the smells. I want to live a more simple life, but I know more than a week of it would drive me crazy. Maybe one day I can convince husband to buy a vacation home in the middle of nowhere. He would never go for this. Ever. I just find very little inspiration in the hustle and bustle of city life. He just wants to be near sports teams. There is room for compromise here, but not in the way of jobs. And after our recent soul searching, we’ve decided that we are keeping our house for good. So I dream of a rural vacation home. The baby part is just the fantasy of a simple life. I am not having anymore kids, ever. But imagining my little baby (son or daughter) sleeping in my arms as I watch the sunrise over undisturbed nature makes my soul warm.
Where is your happy place? Real or otherwise. Happy Wednesday!