heading back to the pacific northwest
where i feel most at home.
walking through the damp forest
smelling the earth
touching the trees
sitting still and breathing.
a simple cottage on a running stream.
large pained windows overlooking
the garden, clothes on the line,
quiet meadows blanketed with morning fogs.
feathers and wildflowers in glass containers in nooks.
bread rising in the sun
soup boiling atop the woodstove.
shelves with pinecones, rocks, shells and treasures
collected by the little ones.
coffee on the front porch, my dog curled around my feet.
fluffy bed next to an open window
chickens clucking in the yard
barefoot gardening
fresh dinners from the harvesting
rainy walks down by the creek
rocking next to the fire nursing my baby
records quietly playing
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