Thursday, December 3, 2020

Waiting for Dawn

Fawn grazing outside Spa Room

Since we arrived over two months ago, I have sat here, looking out the window, with my cup of coffee nearby, the lights off, waiting in the dark of night for the sunrise every morning.  

Before six am, when Scott was here, he would turn on the kitchen light just long enough, to saute salted farm butter in a hot pan on the gas stove, as the butter sizzled and melted, he would add eggs that my sister brought over from her flock of hens, and toast a seeded bagel or thick sourdough bread, to make his breakfast sandwich.  

After finishing breakfast, Scott would turn the lights back off and open the curtains, tying them in bundles off to the side, clearing the window,  so I could see the view over the valley onto the mountain in the distance come to life as the sun turned the world colors of pink, lavender, sun oranges, and cobalt blue. 

He would quietly leave the room.

Then.

I would wait for the sun and write.










 

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