The Cozy Bakery: Daffodil Dreams A Sleepy Tale

Drift into deep sleep with "The Cozy Bakery: Daffodil Dreams." Journey to Newport, Rhode Island, where you'll stroll the Cliff Walk at sunrise, breathing in the fresh ocean air, then immerse yourself in a vibrant daffodil festival.

Enjoy heartwarming cupcake decorating at a cozy bakery with characters who treat you like cherished family. Later, unwind with a peaceful bath in a charming bed and breakfast, feeling completely relaxed and safe. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Sugary confections and even sweeter moments await in tonight's bedtime story for grown-ups.

You are listening to The Cozy Bakery,

Daffodil Dreams.

A calm story for sleep,

Set in a quaint Rhode Island village.

Explore the charming Newport Cliffs in the morning light,

Before a day filled with the vibrant joy of the Daffodil Festival.

Spend the afternoon lost in the wonders of cupcake decorating with Melody and her family,

As you learn to frost daffodils and other blooms.

Enjoy being part of the family and part of a charming community full of beauty and warmth.

As night deepens,

A starlit meal on a sea wharf ensues,

And you later retreat to a bed and breakfast.

Moonlight pours into your room,

Lulling you into a deep and peaceful sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle,

Your host and guide to dreamy escapes.

Think of me as a longtime friend,

Always here to advocate for your comfort and happiness.

You deserve to cherish these bedtime moments,

When you may celebrate making it through another day,

And reward yourself with a night of deep rest.

The beauty of a story lies in its potential to create wells of empathy,

As we get to experience different aspects of life,

And feed different parts of ourselves.

I created the Cozy Bakery and Cozy Laundrette series to give you the feeling of a home away from home,

With characters as loving and supportive,

As a family handpicked just for you.

As always,

I offer a kind reminder that you are completely in charge of your experience,

And may change the story however you see fit.

In this sanctuary,

We adapt with the freedom and fluidity of a dream,

Without rules or limitations.

Remember your imagination is your precious gift to use to explore.

Let's enjoy a brief series of conscious breaths to help you connect with your inner sanctuary.

This will only take a few minutes,

But will help you put some distance between the day behind you and the sweet mental holiday about to begin.

Breathe in,

Open your mouth,

And exhale audibly.

Sigh everything away.

As you inhale,

Imagine the air of your room becoming warm,

And aromatized by the familiar scent of brown sugar,

Baking spices,

And melted butter.

Baking is a way of sharing love,

So feel these loving waves of appreciation flow through you as you exhale.

Loving energy permeates the air and every cell in your body as you inhale deeply.

Welcome this homey sense of comfort as you maybe let out a yawn,

Followed by another sigh.

5.

Feel the soft,

Cool seaside air from the Atlantic Ocean washing over you.

A gentle breeze that carries away any lingering tension from your head and face,

Softening your brows and relaxing your jaw.

Inhale its crisp,

Clean scent that carries a hint of salt water and fresh blossoms.

4.

Let the quiet,

Historical charm of the village embrace you.

Imagine the centuries-old cobblestones beneath your feet,

Stable and grounding.

Feel any tightness in your neck and shoulders release,

Allowing them to gently melt down.

3.

A comforting wave of coziness from the bakery washes over you.

Inhale deeply,

Imagining the warm,

Sweet aroma of croissants and freshly baked cookies filling your chest.

Feel your chest soften,

Your heart space open,

And any heaviness in your arms and hands gently fade.

2.

As you settle even deeper,

Envision the gentle glow of moonlight on the harbor,

A serene,

Silver light.

Allow that soft light to move through your core,

Soothing your belly and hips,

And relaxing any knots or tension.

Feel the profound sense of security tucked in a warm,

Safe corner of a historic inn.

1.

You are now fully immersed in a state of nautical peace.

2.

Feel your legs and feet grow heavy and soft,

Completely supported by your bed or the floor.

The combined essence of Newport's calm,

Its history,

Its sweet warmth and deep stillness within guides you gently towards dreamland.

It's time for the story to begin.

In Newport,

Gilded age mansions meet the Atlantic,

And a walk along the jagged coastline offers a voyeur's view into the lavish architecture and sweeping cliffside views.

The cliff walk brings all who visit a chance to stand between two worlds,

Offering a unique perspective.

This magnificent 3.

5 mile pathway perfectly juxtaposes to powerful worlds.

The stately grandeur of humankind's most opulent mansions on one side,

And the untamed ancient force of Mother Nature's powerful design in the crashing surf and endless glittering waves on the other.

The air,

Though crisp and cool,

Carries the invigorating salty scent of the Atlantic,

Mingling with the sweet perfume of awakening blossoms from nearby gardens.

The distant cry of gulls echoes softly,

And the first golden rays of the sun touch the prismatic dew-kissed grass,

Promising warmth to come.

On the cusp of the busy summer season,

The walk is not too crowded,

And early mornings offer an ideal time to stroll.

As you step out onto the winding path,

The world slowly begins to awaken around you.

The rhythmic crunch of your own footsteps on the gravel path is a grounding sound.

Your hand balances a thermos filled with a seasonal and festive drink offered by the inn.

A soothing balance of flavors that makes you feel excited to start the day.

Dressed in comfortable,

Vibrant fabrics,

You feel effortlessly free.

Such is Newport's climate,

Where layers are essential.

A hint of wind or shadow of cloud can swiftly and dramatically change the temperature.

Yet another reminder that even amid all the opulence of these mansions,

Mother Nature has the final say.

A cheerful,

Fluffy dog trots by,

Its tail wagging with unrestrained joy,

Its owner offering a pleasant good morning.

You share a silent moment of camaraderie,

A brief warm connection with a fellow early cliffwalker.

Parts of the path are paved and require little effort to traverse,

While other areas of the walk are a bit more challenging,

Requiring you to hop over large rocks with a dust of salt from the sea.

To your left,

The grand mansions of the Gilded Age stand majestic against the rising sun.

Their elaborate stone and intricate woodwork absorb the early light,

Making them glow with an almost ethereal beauty.

You notice the delicate ironwork on balconies,

The carved marble pillars,

And the ornate chimneys reaching towards the clear blue sky.

Each detail telling a story of a long-ago world and the opulence and luxury of these grand estates.

The emerald hills of manicured lawns roll towards the cliff walk,

With adirondack chairs forming circles around firepits overlooking the ocean.

You imagine the lives lived within these properties,

Now softened by the gentle morning light.

Their gaze then sweeps over the expansive ocean,

Where the white gold sun casts brilliant diamonds in the sapphire blue water.

The surface shimmers and dances,

Each ripple and wave catching the light,

Sparkling with an otherworldly brilliance that stretches endlessly towards the horizon.

It's a mesmerizing display,

With tiny flashes of light appearing and disappearing,

With a gentle movement of the tide.

Below,

The rhythmic waves crash against the rugged rocks,

With a steady,

Lulling force.

A deep,

Soothing,

Continuous melody that accompanies your every step.

You notice the waterline,

Where the tide has receded,

And how close it edges towards the wave.

The thundering waves create a profound soundtrack,

A constant reminder of nature's power and tranquility.

You're filled with a sense of profound peace and expansive possibility,

Inviting your mind to wander as freely as the seagulls gliding on the ocean breeze overhead.

You breathe deeply,

And there is a lightness in your lungs as you bask in the hopeful morning sun.

The gentle climb of the path,

The soft heat of the sun on your face,

And the endless blue of the ocean create the perfect start to the day,

And a perfect sense of calm.

You sit on the sun-warmed rocks and enjoy this time for solitude and reflection,

Before the festivities of the day unfold.

Sometimes you can live a lifetime in just one day,

And this day seems to be one of those days.

Ocean mist lands on your lips and face,

Cooling you and leaving a salty kiss.

Your feet dangle just above the foamy surf that slips away as the tide draws out.

Feeling deeply refreshed and invigorated by the morning's serene beauty,

You rise and make your way back to your bicycle.

A restored vintage piece with a woven wicker basket holding a dozen trimmed daffodils secured with a satin ribbon.

The gears click softly into place as you begin your ride,

Pedaling gently and easily past the manicured hedges and mansion's unledged road.

As you soar into the heart of Newport,

You encounter daffodils everywhere.

They burst forth in an exhilarating explosion of yellow,

Carpeting every available space with their vibrant and undeniable cheer.

It's as if a golden confetti explosion has settled over the entire town.

A breathtaking tapestry of bright sunny hues,

Made more radiant by the morning sun.

More yellow daffodils than you've ever seen before line the roadsides,

Stretching in endless ribbons of yellow,

Their cheerful heads nodding in the gentle breeze.

A silent,

Joyful greeting to all who pass.

Some resemble a flock of ducks with vibrant yellow beaks.

Gardens overflow with them,

A shimmering sea of sunny blooms,

Their bright cups open to the sun,

Absorbing its warmth.

Terracotta pots and the doorsteps of nautical saltbox homes are crammed with their cheerful yellow,

Some so abundant they nearly obscure the vessels themselves.

Window boxes spill over with their golden trumpets,

Creating cascades of color against the pastel fronts of homes.

Even the shop windows are adorned with daffodil-shaped stickers brightening the panes,

Catching the light.

The air itself seems to shimmer with a golden hue,

Reflecting the overwhelming joy and abundant life of these flowers,

A mood-boosting color that allows for hope on even the grayest,

Stormiest of days in Newport.

Convertibles and antique cars fill the narrow lanes as tourists spill out of historic inns and locals tend to their yards and walk their dogs.

You bicycle into the center of town,

A charming blend of historic cobblestone streets and colorful centuries-old buildings.

Each facade,

Painted in rich jewel tones or soft pastels,

Whispers tales of the past,

Of sailors and merchants,

Of grand balls and quiet family lives.

Newport's rich history as a thriving port and a summer playground for the wealthy is evident in every architectural detail,

From the sturdy colonial homes with their weathered shingles to the ornate gilded age structures that speak of grander times.

The village springs to life with a vibrant spirit of sunny days.

You pass by small boutiques with unique finds and quaint cafes where the aroma of coffee drifts lazily.

You finally arrive at the bustling wharf,

The scent of salt and the gentle creak of boatmasts filling the air,

Mingling with the distant cry of gulls and the faint lapping of distant waves.

Fishermen tend to their nets and pleasure boats bob gently in their slips.

Turning onto a little side street paved with smooth asphalt,

The familiar colorful facade of Melody's Bake Shop comes into view.

Its dozens of gleaming window panes,

Divided by century-old buttercream wood grills,

Reflect the joyful sun-drenched yellow of the daffodils outside.

A delicate bell tinkles softly as you lean your bicycle against a charming lamppost.

You follow a path around the back of the bakery,

Decorated with cheerful hand-painted signs that lead to the garden.

You immediately spot Melody's mother,

Madeline,

Her hands dusted lightly with confectioner's sugar,

Meticulously setting up long,

Rustic wooden tables covered in crisp,

White,

And yellow gingham cloths in preparation for the day's activities.

She moves with a quiet grace and regal posture,

Dressed in a vintage 1970s caftan with a daffodil pattern.

She's remarkably agile for a woman in her seventies.

Like the rest of the village,

The garden is a riot of color,

An absolute celebration of the season's bounty.

More daffodils bloom everywhere in nautical ceramic pots clustered along the stone pathways,

Cascading from wrought iron hanging baskets,

And planted in cheerful,

Sun-kissed clusters beneath old oak trees that are just beginning to leaf out.

The smell of freshly cut grass and marine air is sweetened by a comforting blend.

Of freshly baked goods.

Hints of vanilla,

Almond,

And brown butter.

Madeline looks up from her work,

Her eyes sparkling with immediate recognition and a warm,

Inviting smile that reaches her eyes.

You're just in time,

She exclaims.

The seriousness of her countenance softened.

Beside her,

Another familiar face,

Martha,

Madeline's beloved cousin,

And the kind,

Steady owner of a general store in Vermont,

Steps forward,

Offering a loving,

Enveloping embrace.

Martha,

Who has welcomed you on countless trips to her general store,

A presence a constant source of calm wisdom and easy laughter,

Truly feels like an honorary grandmother to you.

Her hair glints in the sun and smells like fresh vanilla cupcakes as you're lost in her strong hug.

You can feel the genuine warmth in her embrace.

Melody comes out the back door with an assistant,

Carrying trays of cupcakes ready to be iced.

Martha tends to the music,

Putting on Sinatra,

His crooning adds to the timeless,

Wholesome feeling of this gathering.

Soon,

People begin to arrive,

A mix of curious tourists and eager locals,

All looking forward to learning how to frost cupcakes with daffodil designs.

The garden quickly fills with excited conversation,

Interspersed with soft laughter and the clinking of ceramic bowls and frosting spatulas.

You eagerly join the fun,

Finding ways to help the event run smoothly.

You watch the mother and daughter team,

Both pastry chefs in their own right,

Give pointers to children and adults alike on how to perfect petals and add gradients of yellows and oranges to each frosting bloom.

Martha asks for your assistance,

And you follow her across the brick patio into the bakery kitchen,

A space both bustling with gentle activity and wonderfully organized.

Everything having its place,

You'd expect nothing else from Melody.

The familiar intoxicating scent of vanilla beans,

Dark chocolate,

And warm sugar envelops you.

You roll up your sleeves,

Feeling a pleasant anticipation as you prepare to help in the kitchen.

Your first task is to gently grab trays of lukewarm cupcakes from the tall baker's racks.

Their soft,

Inviting aroma,

Wafting up to fill your senses.

Each cupcake is perfectly golden or rich chocolate brown.

Fluffy,

Blank canvases for sugary blossoms.

Then you reach for the icing bags,

Plump with vibrant yellows and verdant green buttercream.

Their tips already prepared to transform the plain cupcakes into delicate works of art.

The smooth,

Cool feel of the icing bag in your hand is satisfying.

You return outside as a blossom deary song fills the air with promises of spring and take in the pure bliss that fills the garden.

Even the messiest spills of icing and a young tyke's buttercream handprint on the bench near a table add a sense of fun.

Martha soothes a little boy who's dropped his cupcake upside down on the grass,

Telling him it's okay and accidents happen.

Melody circulates among the tables,

Offering encouragement,

Sharing warm smiles,

And helping with tricky techniques.

Her own deep love for baking and teaching coming through.

You settle with a cupcake and lose yourself in the careful precision of piping.

Feeling a quiet satisfaction with each perfectly formed daffodil petal.

It amazes you how easy it is to get lost in the meditative world of decorating cakes and cupcakes.

As the afternoon wanes and the sun begins its slow descent,

Casting long,

Golden shadows across the now quieter garden,

The daffodil festival slowly winds down.

The joyful chatter from cupcake decorating softens in two contented sighs and soon the last participants depart,

Their hands clutching precious yellow boxes of their daffodil creations.

Their faces alight with satisfaction in the lingering scent of sweet buttercream.

A peaceful quiet descends on the village.

You,

Melody,

Martha,

And Madeline tidy up in a process made quicker with help from the last lingering festival guests.

As they depart,

Everyone yawns at the same time with a shared feeling,

The gentle,

Pleasant fatigue of a joyful,

Well-spent day.

A sense of shared accomplishment hangs in the air as the garden and kitchen meticulously put back in order.

Together,

The four of you make your way through the softly illuminated streets to a charming restaurant perched directly on Bannister's Wharf.

The salty air is cool now,

Carrying the whisper of the evening tide and the gentle rocking of boats,

Their many sails faintly visible against the twilight sky.

The daffodils are ubiquitous on the wharf,

Their vibrant yellow petals standing out against the deepening shadows of sunset.

The sky is painted in breathtaking hues of fiery orange,

Crimson,

And deep royal purple.

As you make your way into the restaurant,

You settle in just as the sun dips majestically below the horizon,

Painting the vast expanse of water in streaks of vibrant,

Molten gold.

The reflections dance on the water,

Silky ripples promising the return of summer.

The decades-old restaurant pays homage to Newport's rich maritime history,

With exposed brick walls and wooden beams,

Rustic lantern sconces,

Centuries-old paintings of sailboats at night,

And driftwood decor.

Candlelight flickers on each table,

Casting a warm,

Intimate glow that dances across the faces of guests settled into private conversations.

Melody is instantly recognized by the maitre d' who leads your party to the perfect secluded table overlooking the water and boats.

As you enjoy the gentle sounds of the harbor,

Martha shares a fond memory,

Recounting how this very spot was where Ike brought her for their first anniversary so many decades ago,

When their story was just unfolding.

Madeline then reflects on her own path,

Mentioning how she almost took a role as a private chef on a yacht,

Sailing around the world,

But ultimately chose to stay in New York.

She speaks of the profound sense of community she felt with the neighbors who always gathered in the cozy basement laundrette.

They were quite responsible for helping to raise Melody,

A connection that rooted her more deeply than any global adventure could.

You share stories and laughter,

Recalling the day's sweetest moments.

The conversation flows effortlessly,

Punctuated by easy smiles and comfortable silences,

Reflecting the deep unspoken bond you share with this wonderful family.

A family who has so warmly welcomed you as their own.

The rhythm of the waves against the pier below provides a gentle,

Soothing soundtrack to your meal.

Finally,

The last remnants of twilight fade,

And the first glimmering stars begin to prick the darkening sky,

Casting a faint shimmer on the water.

As hard as it is,

It's time to say goodnight.

The embraces are warm and lingering.

Parting ways is always bittersweet,

But you know the future holds many more memories about to be made.

You walk back to your dog-friendly inn,

Pause on Pelham.

The moonlight illuminates the cobblestone streets with a soft pearly glow,

Transforming the path into something magical.

The lanes are so picturesque and perfect that they feel like they belong on the set of a Hollywood studio lot.

You arrive at the inn,

Crossing paths with a Westie,

Being led on a final night walk by a young couple.

You ascend the stairs to the white wraparound porch and enter,

The old wooden doors closing softly behind you.

You step inside and smile at the sight of the charming navy blue wallpaper adorning the halls and stairwell,

Featuring a pattern of dog bones and silhouettes of pups in white.

You ascend through the three floors of charming suites and enter your room on the top floor.

Delightful canine-themed touches,

Wall hooks shaped like dog tails,

And portraits featuring pups around Newport decorate the suite.

The room smells of lemongrass and clean linens as a cool breeze enters the slightly cracked windows.

A quick warm bath awaits you in the elegant clawfoot tub.

As you sink into the warm,

Soothing water,

Steam fills the large bathroom.

Through the windows,

You can see the shadowed outlines of historic homes and just above them,

The soft pearlescent glow of the rising moon.

This quiet moment,

Framed by history and bathed in moonlight,

Is incredibly serene.

You feel your muscles soften and your skin relax.

Before you fall asleep in the tub,

You carefully rise out of the bath and towel off.

You change into your most comfortable pajamas,

The fabric soft and familiar against your skin.

And then,

With a sigh of absolute contentment,

You settle into bed.

The plush mattress cradles you in its comforting embrace,

And you sink deeply into the soft pillows with a sigh of peace.

Moonlight pours into the room,

A wide luminous rectangle across the floor,

Painting a soft silvery glow on the antique furniture and highlighting the subtle patterns on the quilt.

Its peaceful natural nightlight soothes your senses,

Inviting slumber.

The lingering scent of daffodils,

A sweet reminder of the day's beauty and joy,

Mingles subtly with the faint comforting aroma of warm baked goods from the bakery.

The gentle cool of the moonlight,

Against the warmth of the comforter,

Creates a perfect balance.

You listen to the soft creaks of the old inn,

Sounds that are comforting,

Like the grand house is settling down for the night along with you.

Sleep tugs at you gently at first,

Then comes in like a tide and your thoughts become lighter softer,

Drifting effortlessly.

You fall into a deep restorative sleep,

Carried away by wholesomeness and the bliss brought on by today.

Finding comfort,

Finding release,

Finding bliss,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Goodnight.

Reviews

Thank you, Michelle🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Finally, I’ve heard the full story, and what a story it was, jam-packed with such a variety of activities throughout the day. Walking the cliff path with all those mansions, only seen in documentaries or TV shows, sitting down and overlooking the ocean, biking through the town with a sea of daffodils everywhere, helping out in the bakery, walking down to the restaurant, the stories around the table, even allusion to one of my favorite series, then the conclusion in the dog themed inn: wow! Each activity with its own intricate descriptions, a feast for all the senses. And the memories it brought up of spring sights with daffodils, mainly in Bruges, and Amsterdam, and one particular memory, one April, when my beloved and I, in the early stages of our relationship, took the train from Amsterdam to Zandvoort-aan-Zee, and walked through the dunes, and they were filled with tulips. I had never seen anything like it, and have never since, and the picture I took of my sweetheart amongst the tulips in the dunes, is still one of my favorites. Anyway, it’s early Saturday morning, and rather than night dreaming, I am going to do some sea sight day dreaming now. What an unexpected effect of your magnificent story 🙏🏻🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🙏🏻

Thank you kindly Michelle for this amazing bedtime story about a town full of daffodils! I could just picture it! Sounds glorious and beautiful! I loved the description of the baker and her spreading the joy of baking. This heartwarming story put me to sleep & I have played it many times! Definitely a must play again for a feeling good experience! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Loved this story. How wonderful to also hear the lovely bakery connection to your endearing “Cozy Launderette” stories! That made me smile. 💕💕

The details in this story made me feel like I was there experiencing all the sights and sounds and smells. I loved the cliff walk and seeing the beautiful mansions along with the ocean. Then riding the bicycle and seeing all the beautiful yellow daffodils gave me peace. I could smell the yummy bakery goods. Then the peace at the end of the day with a sunset and staying at the dog friendly inn. Thank you, Michelle, for taking me on this adventure, and for another wonderful night of sleep.

Thank you Michelle for another lovely and creative story. 💜