Cabin Time

August 20th, 2009

Light peeks through the curtains in my cabin bedroom announcing the arrival of a new day.  Rolling out of bed, I gather up the faux fur blanket tossed across the overstuffed couch and lumber out to the covered porch.  Wrapped in the blanket, I settle into the soft cushions of a lounge chair.  The morning sun warms my chest and legs and in the distance I hear the whistle of a train echoing up the valley as it rumbles through town.  A humming bird darts towards the glass feeder that dangles from the log above.  A bright red flower protrudes from the base and the bird hovers in search of sweet nectar to no avail.  I make a mental note to mix up a batch of sugar water and refill the feeder.  The temperature is cool but not cold and every so often a soft breeze wisps across my face bearing scents of pine trees.

It is morning.  Well past sunrise but early enough that the day still feels fresh.  The pump from the hot tub that stands tucked into the corner of the porch gurgles as if gulping down the water it holds – white noise that fades into the background.  The sky is pale blue with patches of gray and white clouds that stretch into long, flat ovals.  A few billowing clouds cling to the ridge of the mountains in the distance and like a refreshing glass of water, the air is clear and clean.  In this moment I am content and I am reminded of why I come away to the cabin.  Ah, to start every day like today.  Though I’d like to linger at the cabin for days, my life back home beckons me.  Perhaps I’ll try getting up a little bit earlier each morning to remember the magic of the cabin; taking time to watch the day begin.

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