I threw off the covers, a thick blue comforter that looked as though it would weigh heavily on me but which in reality was light and fluffy and warm, like pancakes for sleeping. The bed itself was heavy, and solid, and tough: thick wooden posts supporting a wide, king-sized bed with a monumental headboard that stood guard proudly throughout the night while I and Sweetie slept.
In the hint of yellow-orange sunlight that was drizzling in through the windows, I could see the rustic furniture that filled out the rest of the one-room cabin. The double-sized overstuffed armchair, blond wood with a puffed-up, rumpled cushion, the chair we'd sat in last night looking at the fire dying, and planning our day in the mountains today, sat touched by the sun first, just off to the side of the wide, circular coffee table that sat low and solid and inviting, the kind of table that had wood so smooth and shiny you wanted to touch it, and the kind of table that seemed so friendly you wanted to sit down next to it cross-legged. Behind the chair, and looking over the couch-and-chair fireplace set, was the kitchen table: wide and broad and long enough for six, its vast expanse of tabletop supported by hand-carved legs calling to mind a stylized tree would only be holding dinner for two for the remainder of the week.
Or, this morning, breakfast for two.
The furniture you surround yourself with creates a mood just as much as the scenery, fresh air, or adventures. Visit Scenic Furniture to see how that works.