Sunlight through the leaves, coffee cup steaming – that’s how we do mornings here at home! Feeling cozy and content in my favorite oversized knit today, chasing those golden hour vibes all day long. A...

Here goes...

“There. That was almost right.” It’s not loud, not really. More like a sigh that hasn’t quite found its way out yet. The wool feels good against the skin, doesn’t it? A little scratchy around the edges - much like everything lately. These boots were your mother’s favorite, remember? Not that ours weren’t lovely, but hers had a certain… solidity to them. Unlike this one, perhaps. This one has too many creases.

You haven’t said anything for ages, have you? Just been standing there, all angles and hesitant light, since you stepped through the door with those curious eyes. Like you expected something obvious, didn’t you? As if it wasn't so long ago that everything felt perfectly poised, likeedine plates set for two. We were laughing then, hadn’t we? Or maybe we were just smiling—certainly, no one ever actually complained.

Now… now it’s more this. The quietness after the storm. Which could be nice, sometimes. If only you looked like you thought about that. Our gaze keeps drifting back to the fireplace, don’t you think? To the embers, glowing faintly, where the warmth used to be. Before the rain came, of course. Everyone remembers the summer heat.

It’ed been a while since anyone truly saw us, hadn't it? Well, except the maids. And they never said much either. So, yes, certainly, look at us. Look at us closely. Is it pity you’re feeling, or recognition?”

A slight tilt of the chin, a hint of a smile playing on the lips, and a question lingering in the eye - “Do you miss it?”

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(Image source assumed: a beautiful, slightly melancholic portrait of Jane Birkin - often seen in her signature knitted sweater!)

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