My log home would sit in the middle of about 10 acres with about 30 foot of yard on all sides of the cabin. With trees standing tall around the boarder of the yard as if they were guarding it. I would want a mixture of tall oaks, and birch trees. In the middle of the back yard a small brook would run through. My yard would be Blue Lyme grass it’s a nice steel blue color, long and unruly. It would have a large red wood deck where I could sit and drink my coffee, from the warm orange glow of sun rise I see silhouette’s of the wild deer drinking from the brook. Looking through the steam rising from the coffee cup, I can see the mountain tops in the distance their reflection dancing off the lake below as if celebrating sun rise. In the distant the song of the American eagle echo’s off the mountain sides. For just a moment I would forget about how harsh the world is and remember the beauty that it still possesses. A sound startles the deer and the scatter like marbles on glass. Out of the right side of the woods a red fox tippy toes as if floating from the wood line. He makes his way to the brook, right as the sun peaks out from its blanket of mountains the fox looks up and the beam of the golden rays shine just on him, making him as though his fur was flames of brilliant orange. Closing my eyes and realizing that there is no other place I would want to be but right here in this moment forever. Then out of no where I wake up
