A Graeagle Morning

Buma's house has always been a wonderful place. When I was a kid, we always had a great time together. She always took me on magically fun adventures and her home was always perfectly decorated, welcoming, and filled with the best food smells. The world would be a better place if everyone had a Buma.
Now that I'm "grown up", with a wife, a crazy busy life, instead of spending every last dime on vacations, often times, we go to Buma's house. She lives in the Sierra mountains in a cute little town called Graeagle. She's lived here for years and the neighbors and acquaintances of the community have become like an extended branch to our family. Buma even encourages us to come up and use her home as a motel of sorts when she's away.
This Thanksgiving was one such occasion. It's been family tradition to do Thanksgiving with friends, not family, and for years my parents did just that until last year when Keli and I decided to break off and start our own non family, friends only Thanksgiving. Plans to hang with friends ON Thanksgiving this year ended up falling through, so we decided to head up to Buma's to get away from it all.
Our three day getaway was just what I needed. We took a walk with Kyu, our Dachshund and collected rocks and pine cones (for crafts...Keli IS a fourth grade teacher, after all), enjoyed great food and drinks, and even got to see some local wildlife (racoons) visit the back porch for leftovers we'd tossed out.
Now, as I sit finishing my coffee on the morning of our departure, I'm getting a chance to take in a little more nature. The sun is rising over the yard behind Buma's house. She has a bench right at the edge of her lawn which drops into a ravine where, after the rain begins, has a quiet stream that trickles by. From the dining room table, I can see the dew dripping off of the bench as shadows of pine cones dance on the living room floor. No cars are driving by, no fire engines, no rumpus salsa music is wofting across the street. Just us and nature as the fallen pine needles and dirt warm under the rising sun. As a matter of fact, the only noise i hear right now is coming from an old pendulum clock Buma has had hanging on her walls since I was born (probably before that).
I wish everyday could start and end like this. If it did, though, I may not appreciate it as much. What's your favorite quiet gettaway?