This following reverie is inspired by the cottagecore aesthetic. Take a trip through your mind to the idyllic cottages standing in the midst of spring.
Note: Imagine yourself as the ‘I’ in the story.
I’ve been here for just a moment, but I feel at home. There is a quaint and beautiful cottage that sits in a garden flourishing a breath of spring. Wisteria cascades down the roof. The garden looks like a canvas where several colours have been dropped from the sky by the ever-glowing strokes of sunshine. The spring air used its brush ever so gently to place every tiny little flower in the right place.
Lilacs bloom, daisies are in the wind, roses are in full bloom, daffodils too. I tread lightly on this ground stepping on the pearls of morning dew sitting atop the fresh grass. This is what I miss when I’m chasing all the frivolous things in life that like everyone else I will never stop chasing, but right now nothing is more important than this heaven on earth. And of course heaven is always on Earth.
The cottage here is a little haven of solitude, interlude and tranquility. The white drapes lining the windows sway so gently, moved by the delicate breath of spring. The white drapes gently filter the sunshine and let it light up the room.
The windchimes by the window harmonize with the birds. It is so ethereal to be in wind.
And by the window sill there are birds who come and go as they please and sing several melodies for me.
I often wondered if no one was to ever see me here even if for a moment what is it that I would do? I would sing and dance and write a thousand poems about roses.
I would play soft chords and sing songs of love, I would dance around because there is no rush. The colour has come back in a thousand shades of Spring, and when the night falls everything will be violet, dark but not sad.
Now the night has arrived and I walk through each room of this cottage to light the candles and turn on the lamps. I can almost hear the soft evening breeze if I don’t make a sound and stay still. As the night gets darker the crickets sing and the fireflies light up the dark.
My day is over as I fall asleep gently in the cottage that sits in the middle of Spring.
I hope you enjoyed reading this.