My workplace setting will help, taking me back into time. Sitting in my favorite chair, logs burning in the fireplace, my dog RUFF laying in front of that fire, with a candlelight burning in every window. A moment frozen in time; a picture of the past secure in my mind, with a sense of fulfillment prodding me on. Every now and then though, I look up from my book, my mind peering into the darkness, gently sliding me back into time. I turn my head to the left at the sound of the wind, fully expecting Ben Franklin to walk into the room; sadden that the reality of the night has slowly crept back into the room. None the less, I have to pinch myself, to get back to the task at hand, knowing that this certainly is the best place to do my work. Slowly I put my book down next to my chair and turn to walk from the room. As I rise, I am safe in knowing there is always a light burning in all our log house windows to safely lead our way.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
West of Wennawoods' Blogging It - Looking Through Our Window
My workplace setting will help, taking me back into time. Sitting in my favorite chair, logs burning in the fireplace, my dog RUFF laying in front of that fire, with a candlelight burning in every window. A moment frozen in time; a picture of the past secure in my mind, with a sense of fulfillment prodding me on. Every now and then though, I look up from my book, my mind peering into the darkness, gently sliding me back into time. I turn my head to the left at the sound of the wind, fully expecting Ben Franklin to walk into the room; sadden that the reality of the night has slowly crept back into the room. None the less, I have to pinch myself, to get back to the task at hand, knowing that this certainly is the best place to do my work. Slowly I put my book down next to my chair and turn to walk from the room. As I rise, I am safe in knowing there is always a light burning in all our log house windows to safely lead our way.