I spent some time, this morning, laying in bed and absorbing my room- the one in my parents house where I retreat to when I am off-season or ailing. It is the room that is cluttered with books, kitsch, photographs, prints and paintings. It is the room that proved to be a sanctuary over the twenty or so years that in which I have inhabited it- off and on. The outside reflection of the inside me.
The room from my childhood (actually I had to trade rooms with my brother at some point in the distant past) has cool lilac colored walls and only one window so the mornings are generally a gentle greeting to the day. This morning was no different, even Henry seemed slightly gentler when he hopped onto the bed for his morning snuggles. I pet him, stared out the window, and watch the gold spring sunshine begin to creep up the wall, through the shades.
I got a bit misty eyed- but there's really too much to do today to dwell on that.
This morning will be the last of the 'lazy' ones in that room, in that bed- where I can enjoy that view, that parade of light and wonder, only half awake with a puppy tucked in beside me.
Tomorrow will be my last in general in that room and that bed. At least for a little while, until I either return auspiciously or get the boot out of Norway.
Until then...
I need to pack.
:)
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