Opening the Shutters

It’s the beginning of my third week in Le Petit Village and slowly, daily routines are beginning to form.

Each morning when I wake, I walk down the spiral stairs to the kitchen, make the coffee and check my emails and read the news.
After awhile, when the dawn turns to light, I open the shutters. Each of the rooms in the house have large windows with large pale green French shutters.
Sometimes they can be a bit of a struggle but I love opening them.
I undo the rusty latch and gently push them open and to the side, careful not to disturb the balcony flowers. I feel the cool air and hear nothing. Le Petit Village is always tranquil but the mornings are still.
From the front windows I can see the wall and entrance to the old village. I think about all the different people that have lived there since the 13th century and wonder what they saw when they opened their shutters.

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