Oh the peace of June mornings. I sometimes step onto the broad path at the edge of the woods that lead down to the barn.
Here the woodland is greatly softened by a lush understory of greenery, and I can sit on a bench or stand and admire the thickness of tree trunks that rise like dark Druids around me.
It's quiet here too at the end of the day, and I remember how my Bob used to like sitting then on a small concrete bench, watching the sunset reflect its colors into the upstream waters of the creek.
Nothing brought more peace to his spirit then sitting there for awhile, he would tell me, and I share that feeling.
After quiet time at the creek, I stroll back to the house, more than ready for the easy sleep that will prepare me for tomorrow.
And so, goodnight to all; I will be rising at dawn, as I usually do, to greet the new day.