Early morning at the cottage

Up around six this morning, the cottage dark and still. Quietly, I switch on the light over the sink as dimly as it can be. I wrap the coffee grinder in three towels, and hold it tightly to my body to make it as quiet as it can be. Filter in the basket, ground coffee in the filter, water into the reservoir, I switch on the coffee maker. I take a seat on the sofa and look out towards the lake. Too dark to see anything other than pierhead lights blinking every six seconds six miles away. Too dark to see the tree trunks a few feet away from me. Too dark to see the waves that I hear crashing into shore.

Coffee finished, I pour a cup, and put half a scone on a plate and return to the sofa to resume the morning vigil. A sip of coffee, a nibble of scone and thirty minutes go by until the faint light makes the tree trunks visible. Still too dark to make out the sky, or the lake on beyond the trees. On the last sip of coffee in the cup, I can just see the line forming on the horizon separating the lake from the sky.

House still silent, everyone else still tucked in their beds, this is a time to be lost in my thoughts. This morning, though, I have no thoughts other than I really enjoy sitting here carefully observing the subtle minute-by-minute changes as the night transforms to dawn. My mind and cup are empty. It’s time to refill the cup.

Fuzzy shapes begin to show near the trunks are all I can make out of the branches that I know are there, barely visible in this pre-dawn illumination. The treehouse appears out of the darkness, and three distinct shades of grey, the snow on the bluff, the dark grey of the lake, and the lighter shade of the sky are my backdrop for trees in the foreground.

Variations of grey in the sky appear as I hear the soft padding of feet in my bedroom. Shortly, I hear a cupboard opened, and a mug set on the counter in front of the coffee pot. The refrigerator opens and I hear the sound of half-and-half being poured, followed by coffee.

Silently, she sits next to me on the sofa as two people now maintain the morning vigil. Twigs and grasses can be seen now, and the sky reveals that it’s cloudy again. The faint patterns of the waves can be seen now as we talk as quiet as we can as to not wake up the others.

In just minutes, this spell will be broken and the day will begin.