Journal entry

I awoke this morning.

Early.

There were lit embers in the fireplace giving off a dim glow

 so I gathered a few logs from the garden room,

stoked what remained of last night’s ebbing fire and added a log.

Wind is whispering down the flue and rain is tinkering on window pane and roof, setting the tempo for my fingers as they tap these keys. There is frost on roof-tops, and smoke is spewing out of Don’s smokestack. It appears that I am not the only one who roams the halls at this hour. As I open the back door, a thick bouquet of bacon falls heavy-laden, swirling through a dissipating miasma. I hear a dog barking and the splashing-up of rainwater as the wheels of a logging truck makes it’s way south along Highway 101.

A rogue seagull flies overhead.

Dawn is on its way.

~