In July, I dreamed of the cabin...
"Mornings at the cabin are some of my happiest memories. Waking up to the sound of a crackling fire and the smell of coffee, and peeking out of my room to see my dad, reading by the fire.
I think I can imagine the cabin more vividly than any other place in my past. I can almost hear the sound of the hinged screen door swinging open and banging shut, and feet crunching accross the stones in the driveway, crickets chirping, the smell of cedar and grass and smoke..."
Again, my senses are anticipating the comforting familiarity of this peaceful place.
(Sorry Andrea, I couldn't resist stealing your picture. The chair at the end of the dock looks like the most perfect place on earth.)