A cottage, touched with the first light of morning, mist still lingering in the nearby fields. Birds singing, the branches bobbing as they perch in blooming shrubs. Dew still lingering on the flowers in the garden, on the strawberries and vegetables planted in their neat rows. Inside, the tea kettle whistles, tea cups, honey and cream are set on the old wood table. The smell of hot toast and fresh jam lingers in the air, the floorboards warmed by the sunlight pouring through the kitchen windows. I want to wake up to this dream.
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