The moonlight is bouncing off the snow covered lawn of my childhood home.The creak of the stairs, the sound of the front door's iron knocker- knocking as someone closes the door, the smell of the wood stove, and the warm, worn feeling of the antique brown armchair that I take over when Dad heads to bed...
We have arrived.
3 comments:
Hmm...
I wonder when I'll next be in Andover.
Home! That creak in your stairs. I can hear it in my head. I actually had a dream last night about your dad's house and the street outside. Weird. I didnt' realize it until I read this post. Give it all a hug for me!
YAY!!!! Can't wait to see you guys!! Camden is excited to meet you!
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