I've always been content with mornings. I could happily sleep in, but there is something magical about the morning light filtering into a bedroom.
At the Birdhouse, I luckily had a window that faced East(it is so odd using the past tense, but it's true. As of tonight, I no longer reside at the Birdhouse.)
I loved my mornings waking up there.
They looked somewhat like this:
2 comments:
pretty pretty house.
That wall of photos/nicknacks was my favorite in your room on Prince street. I know you loved that house...good memories of your first few years after leaving home. I love you, birdie!
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