Maine rhythms.

Waking up to steady rainfall on the roof, foghorns sounding in the distance. Grinding coffee by hand, making a strong pot, drinking it from my favorite mug with a Tony’s donut while reading the paper. Writing. Going for a long walk around the island, gathering bay leaves by the shore. Stopping by the library. Making a pot of tea and listening to the news. Writing. Having a drink and making dinner with my husband. Going for an evening walk to the point, skipping stones into the bay at dusk. Doing the dishes, getting ready for bed, reading. Curling up under flannel sheets and a thick wool blanket, sleeping soundly.


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