spiker's blog: "Pour elle"

I open my eyes and stare up.  In my momentary waking daze, I try to make sense of the unfamiliar rough-hewn wood where the ceiling should be.  Ah yes - the log cabin - where sleep is deep and waking is a slow transition from dream to reality.

I can see my breath in the cold air inside the cabin. The blazing fire we made last night went out hours ago and the cold winter air encroaches on our warm bed.  We are protected with our warm overstuffed duvet, but I have to get the fire started again. 

I creep out of bed quietly, so as not to wake you.  It's freezing, so I grab my jeans and sweatshirt and head out of the room into the lounge.  The fire is dead as I get into my cold clothes and hop around trying to get warm. 

I can see from the diffused light coming through the window that the sun is bright outside.  But the window is still completely frosted, so I use my breath and the palm of my hand to clear some of the frost away to look outside. 

A beautiful, sunny winter day!  A fresh blanket of snow covers everything.  The snow is pristine except for the tracks of a solitary deer, crossing at the bottom of the garden - an early morning traveller.

I get paper, kindling and wood together and get the fire started.  The place should be nice and warm within a half hour or so. 

The woodsmoke smells sweet as I sneak back into the bedroom and take my clothes off again and quietly crawl back into bed next to your warm body.  I let my hands warm for a few minutes before getting close to you - then I cuddle you from behind.  How can someone still smell this good in the morning!  Today is going to be such a joy with you, in our winter wonderland.