It matters not what the weather is outdoors, for in my haven, I begin each morning gazing at blue skies. No matter the outdoor seasons, I don't need slippers in my comfort zone for I pad about with my feet warmed by lush mauve cotton.
I sit each morning in my sanctuary listening to the birds chirp just outside my window. If I close my eyes though, I can let them in. Once in, the birds pick their place in my haven and wish me a good day with their chirps. Comforting scents of coffee, cinnamon and butter slowly waft in as I rest my head on a couch cushion. I hear determined footsteps through my sky. My daughter is awake and getting ready for school. A glance to my right reminds me how privileged I am to be the mother of this remarkable woman. In this room she lives as well. My right wall is adorned with the proof of her superiority Honor roll, first place in science six years in a rowvolleyball team recognitions. All of these things surround the pictures of my magnificent seventeen year old creation.
Only last night, in the evening sky I visited with my instruments. There they have sat for years waiting for my touch. I wonder if they miss my touch and the music we made together.