J. I've found my house in Italy and/or Ireland! Even though this one is in Provence, you can capture the spirit of it.
I wake here on an April 1 morning, tiptoe sleepily, unsteadily, down the stone steps, steaming coffee in hand to wander through the garden and take stock of all the spring-growing progress. Gravel crunches and prickles under my bare feet as noisy birds conduct management meetings in the trees. Dew-wet earth smells heady and the scent clings to the inside of my nose. As I lazily wander, the morning sun generously warms my slowly waking muscles and the breeze, still a little crisp from the night, pushes my hair around my shoulders.
As lovely as the reality might be, just having the dream is enough...for today.
Beautiful...and yes the dream is the essence of who we are.
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