Cottage Pie

Our lane and the cottage that we call home for the next few weeks.

The hedgerows are full of birds that chirrup and chorus in the long late sunlight.

Village life, church bells and stone walls surround me as I drink a pot of Earl Grey in a pocket of morning sunshine at a cafe table.

I try to remember if life exists beyond this,
beyond cobwebby window glass, flagstone floors,
oak leaves, a jug on my kitchen sill of freesias and rambling roses.

Beyond the faint smell of woodsmoke,
of an owl hoot at evening,
of creaking water pipes and claw footed bathing.

Of the honeyed light and soft voices,
of hanging over a mossy fence gazing at minnows threading in a brook.

And I can't explain it but to say that a part of me was waiting for me here.

Sj  – (June 23, 2011 at 10:42 PM)  

oh it's like a picture-book! it's also like the movie we love - the holiday! So glad your heart is feeling full away from home. glad for you precious one! Enjoy, breathe in and relish the cuppas by the potful! love u

paige  – (June 23, 2011 at 11:42 PM)  

oh how gorgeous!!
beyond picturesque!

Simoney  – (June 24, 2011 at 1:54 PM)  

Wow, how amazing.
I can totally see you somewhere like that Ames!

Kelly Sauer  – (June 25, 2011 at 6:21 AM)  

Oh what a gift, Amy. What a gift. I just want to cry, reading, seeing this. I felt my heart let down, felt as if there is rest here. How wonderful!

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