The morning dewdrops

Chatterbox: Inkwell

The morning dewdrops

The morning dewdrops glitter as the fresh rays of sunlight peek over the rolling hills.  As I stand on the porch to the tiny cottage, I feel a sudden urge to slip off my shoes and take a walk in the grass around my new home.

No reason comes to mind as to why not, so with a grin I slide off my shoes and hop down into the cool wet grass.  It's a bit chilly, but it's indescribably invigorating, too.  It's the most perfect sort of grass in the world- that wonderfully soft, thin kind that's the most perfect shade of green.  I breathe in the brisk morning air and close my eyes.

A few birds are singing the morning news to each other before getting down to the daily business.  If I listen very closely I can hear rushing water in the distance.  A babbling brook.

I smile at the thought.  What a beautiful phrase it is, babbling brook. It makes you feel like all of nature is smiling.  And today- well, I think it truly is.

I climb back onto the porch and wipe my feet on the cheerful welcome mat.  There are little flowers embroidered onto the corners, isn't that sweet? 

The door swings open with a homey little creak, revealing an entryway leading into a fetchingly cozy kitchen.  Although the sun was still that of a cool morning, with all of the windows I could just feel the sunbeams streaming in.  Next to the kitchen I find a charming little breakfast nook, complete with a window seat picturing the most beautiful view of the endless green hills.  I can already picture hours of reading and sketching the hours away.

Curiously peeking into a closet, I discover a spiraling staircase that smelled faintly of pine.  I test the first step to make sure that it's secure- it is- before continuing upwards.

Oh, what a lovely attic!  The piney smell lingers, and the whole tiny place is scattered with squishy pillows.  Snuggled close to the floor sits my bed, and as a quick plop down on it reveals, it's delightfully comfortable.  As I look up I notice how slanted the ceiling really is.  At the peak, a cute little round window promises warm sunlight and cool moonbeams for the many days and nights to come.

I close my eyes and let myself sink into the pillows, and take a long deep breath of the aromatic pine.

submitted by Blissful Days
(February 11, 2019 - 12:50 pm)

I love this! Your writing is great is this a mysterious post?

submitted by Aquamarine, age XI, In the Clouds
(February 11, 2019 - 2:35 pm)
submitted by Top!
(February 11, 2019 - 9:53 pm)

I love it! The writing is so detailed, it paints a perfect picture!

submitted by Twirlgirl, age 13, My Imaginary Dance Studio
(February 11, 2019 - 11:01 pm)

WHAT THIS SO GOOD HOW DO YOU -- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

However, there are two times when I think you didn't need the adjective "cute" or "charming" (charming little breakfast nook, cute little round window). Too many adjectives are too repetitive and can actually ruin your writing. :) But this is REALLY GOOD. I wanna go there! :)

submitted by Jithkeeper
(February 12, 2019 - 10:51 am)

Aw, I love this. It makes me feel happy and cozy. ^^

submitted by Leeli
(February 12, 2019 - 1:22 pm)

The walls are painted in springy, pastel shades that bring images of nursery rhymes to mind. Today I've decided to paint little sheep and their shepherds running around the baseboards.  Every window is open, and the air is so fresh that it feels like being outside.  Now and then a gentle breeze sails through, ruffling the newspaper spread around to protect the floor.

I dip my brush into the first bottle of color and start to carefully create the roundhead shape.  The smooth, circular motion of the brush as the color builds up is wonderfully relaxing.

Vibrant smocks grow onto the rosy-cheeked shepherds, complete with matching caps.  Paint is all over my hands, but I like it.  It looks like I stroked a rainbow.

As I sit back and wait for the paint to dry, a little white butterfly flutters in through the wide open window.  She lands timidly on a vase of daffodils and seems to survey the strange situation she has landed herself in.  Lifting her wings after a moment, the creature sets out again.  As she nearly reaches the window, a breeze floats through and coaxes her back out into the wide open skies.

I dip my brush into the water jar to clean it.  A puff of vivid blue floats off of it, staying nearly stagnant for a moment before slowly beginning to settle.  I wipe the brush on the newspaper before dipping into a creamy white.

The woolly sheep are a treat to draw, layering tight little curls into a fluffy coat.  One sheep grows into a flock through the smooth, rhythmic motion of my brush.

Before I wash the brush and add the frolicking legs, I dot a simple white butterfly in the pastel skies

submitted by Blissful Days
(February 12, 2019 - 4:43 pm)