Those Long Ago Winter Mornings On the Farm

I cherish memories of those long ago mornings, awakening in an unheated attic room to mingled aromas- sweet hickory smoke escaping the old wood cook stove, bacon frying, coffee perking, and biscuits baking. Outside, a stark landscape in black and white, whipped by howling wind, that seeking entry, would expend itself against frosted windowpanes. Delicate feathers of frost, created by my exhalations that would spread like smoke throughout the room. Inside, embraced by a feather mattress, oblivious to the cold wind and impending morning chores, I would for a few nefariously delicious moments again drift away in blissful warmth- those long ago winter mornings on the farm.