when i was little, my grandpa and grandma on my mom's side owned a little trailer that was on a pond. we called it a lake... but it was a pond. the trailer had a gigantic porch and a fire pit up the hill and a dining room table that i turned into a fort and slept under almost every time i was there.
there was this feeling that the mornings gave me when i was there. the smell of sap filled my entire nose, and it was always cold in the morning. the good kind of cold. then on morning after it had rained, i liked listening to the drip from the gutter against the plastic siding of the trailer. we had an early bird, and i liked to look at the clock first thing when he woke me up. he's awake at 4:32 this morning. 3:56. 4:04. 2:44. i didn't mind like every one else that he was awake.
i never felt rushed when i was there. besides the morning wake up call from the early bird, i never looked at the clock. lunch came when we were hungry, grandpa and uncle doug would fish forever, mom would go on thousands of walks, grandma would get stuck in the fold out couch, cara and i would find a toad under the deck, grandpa would cook his fish.. they were always blue gill, and we would sit around the fire pit to watch that evening's wood burn down.
it was just... easy to be there.
and this morning reminds me of it. i'm enjoying it.
