What if..?

This morning I was awake before dawn. I snuggled in for a while, as the windows, then the curtains, then the roses on the dresser became visible in the chill, gray, light.  It was bitterly cold outside. I could tell because when it is in the single digits the boards of the deck outside my window pop and snap in the still air. I was in no hurry to leave the warmth of bed and go out to tend the animals.  But eventually I did. Bravo hops up to encourage me to start the day.

Once up and out, I am always glad. I greet the barn cats with a plate of food and they rub against me, purring loudly. The rituals of my morning chores are filled with small delights. The dogs frisk around as I carry hay, fill water bowls, let the chickens out from their coops. I am only milking one goat now, but the quiet moments when all I hear are the sounds of her enjoying breakfast, and the hiss of warm milk filling the pail are pleasantly meditative.

Chris likes to sleep in on Sunday, so when chores are done I have the house to myself. I cleaned the wood stove and got a good fire going. The house looks festive, decorated for Christmas. It smells of evergreen with a hint of wood smoke. It's quiet as I strain the milk, heat it to make chevre, (simple cheese,) and feed my bread starter. I empty the dishwasher, looking out to see the donkeys, sheep and goats pulling great mouthfuls of hay from the rack. A few bold hens have left the coop, and are scratching around in the pasture. I begin to cook breakfast, deeply content.

Chris and I often wonder what heaven would be like. I take a look around me and suddenly wonder, "What if this is it? What if this is my heaven?" I pause and smile. That would be sweet.