Our Happy Place
Colored vases catch the morning sun and wink at the day...a memoir reposted.
On the ancient wagon wheels, the birds perch. They view an old wood cabin, its boards rough hewn. A stack of logs sits in the tarnished brass basket, waiting for the stove. Thick webs drape under the corner eaves, from spiders unknown. A sign on the red door announces, “THIS IS OUR HAPPY PLACE.” A dim yellow bulb hangs from the ceiling, while colored vases catch the sun, and wink at the day. The Mrs. is awake, bustling around the back room near the porch. The cottontails lope through the yellow flowers, nibbling on the sour grass stems. Bacon is sizzling on the stove, and blueberry muffins are in the oven.Another morning stirs to life, under the redwoods, on Hudson Lane.
Excuse me, did somebody mention bacon and muffins? Send GPS directions, please.
The Gopher Farm in Porter Gulch is a shaggy, well-worn corner of Paradise, if you ask me. Thanks so much for bringing this little paean to a family home back.
Artists endeavors awaken a scene imaginable by brush’s strokes of blue clouds in trees vases just filled with vibrant radiant visions. I see the cotton tails clouds hop nibbling Bermudan butter cups. Smell oh bacon and blueberries muffins fill the air. Good Sunday morning Sharon. The day begins with breakfast delight.