There were blueberries and pine cones there.
The sweetest smell of lavender floats into my room.
Big ornate frames leaned up against white washed walls.
Empty, to the naked eye, even shabby.
A mantle with small treasures perched conspicuously.
Nature within grasp.
First there was a queen size brass bed with colorful, tattered
quilts. Then two mattresses stacked one on top of the other
placed on the ground, over them, a fort made from blankets.
The magical coverings that kept out the cold.
Branches everywhere.
Hardwood floors cold on one's bare feet.
Piping hot tea steaming in a clay mug.
A wreath of red berries on the door.
A fireplace crackling near by providing warmth on
an English winter's day.
Little tiny feet patter toward me on the hard wood.
