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Waking up to trees

There’s still something so magical about waking up at home. It’s that sense of comfort from waking up, forgetting where I was, then suddenly remembering that I was snuggled in my childhood bed, looking up out to the woods behind the house. Perhaps I appreciate it more because I know I’ll no longer have the opportunity to visit my home once Dad sells the house, but a definite feeling of warmth and home comfort washed over me first thing this morning.

It’s not necessarily because it’s home and it reminds me of the innocence of childhood; it’s the waking up to trees that I love. Then again, perhaps my love of trees and the countryside has been informed by my being brought up with that. Either way, I reached a conscious decision as I opened my eyes this morning: I would eventually settle in a house where I could wake up to a view of trees and the countryside.

Maybe I shouldn’t talk about such things when I only moved into my new flat yesterday. It was strange not spending my first night there, but it was nice to visit home, albeit briefly.

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