Morning light softly filters through the window shade of our camper, muted tones of soft, shadowy gray. Awakening is slow and gentle on this morning at the lake. So, I stretch out long and wiggle ten toes before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and stepping into worn flip flops. An old flannel shirt pulled over sleepwear is fine for now.
With only the soft glow of dawn to light my way, I step down into the kitchen to brew a quick cup of coffee. Then, head outside into the new day with a steaming mug in my hand.
The sky has taken on shades of pink and peach as the sun peeks over the eastern horizon. The moon still hangs heavily in the west. Barely a breeze rustles in the live oak trees and tall grasses; the lake is still and smooth as glass. There is a slight chill in the air and the coffee I sip helps keep me warm. Deer graze in the field across the winding road.
A young doe has wandered quite near to our campsite and she pauses to look up at me questioningly. No fear or quick flight on her part, as they are protected here in the park. We share a quiet moment and then she wanders away and I settle into a canvas chair and simply listen to the quiet.
Days at the lake in our fifth wheel feel like stolen time. The feeling of being “unplugged” is soul soothing, almost sacred. I soak it in, try to store it up to fortify me in the coming days when we have returned to the routine. I long for more mornings like this, slow and deliberate in their start. But, perhaps the fact that they are rare is part of what makes them so special.
Where does your heart find rest and respite? Is there a quiet space in this world for which you long? As for me, morning at the lake is a bit of paradise…
Welcome to the porch... 