Peace resumes

This highland morning dawns at around 4am, with a pale sun, a fine drizzle and cloudy skies. A cool breeze from the partially open windows stirs the blinds.

I lie in bed next to my husband, still asleep although smothered in kittens, and listen to the rain on the windows. I can hear a fair wind blowing around the eaves of the house across our exposed, hilltop croft. The kittens stir, reform themselves into more comfortable circles of fur between us, and settle again.

Soon it will be time to get up and make coffee and breakfast, but for now I’m content to lie here in the comfort of bed and enjoy the tranquility of this morning.

I use this quiet time to think, and plan, and sometimes make lists. Shall I bake baguettes this week? Do I have enough bread flour? I must add avocados to my shopping list. I think I’ll use those freshly pulled carrots in a salad later today. And I should remember to sow more beetroot seed this week.

Nothing of great importance, just the mental jottings of a small, contented life.

We are back after our Manchester trip, and there’s nothing quite like time away to create a fine appreciation of home comforts.

The comfort of our own bed. The cats snoozing peacefully in rare moments of stillness. The pleasure of good bread, croft eggs with rich orange yolks and slow breakfasts together. Settling back into the comforting groove of our particular life. Not a life for everyone, but one that fits us just perfectly.

It’s good to be home.