The first thing I notice as I stick my head out from under the covers is the nip in the air. It's just the right sleeping weather.
The furnishings are made of polished mahogany. The bedside table holds a hurricane lamp and a box of matches. On the opposite wall, French doors open out onto a stone balcony. The general colour scheme is rose and gold, mostly shown in rich brocades.
In the sitting area, a grey tabby sleeps curled up on one of the chairs.
The trees are large and deciduous, with dense, green undergrowth. The sunlight is quite bright where it dapples the ground, and the breeze rustling through the leaves creates an ever-moving wash of light.
The path is narrow, but clear. One person can travel easily, and by the looks of it, it is oft-travelled. The brush grows close, occasionally extending a branch or vine across the path.
The river is broad and, judging by the ripples in the center, quite swift. The path ends on a pebbly bank, which leads into the rapidly deepening water. Clear and clean, you can see that the water is probably not much deeper than waist-high, though. A tree hangs low over the water near the path's end.
It's more of a glass bowl than a cup, deep and round. The crystal casts rainbow shards at the faintest hint of light, and the effect is only magnified by the clear water I fill it with.
The key is one of those large, gilded keys, set with rubies. It hangs on a thin gold chain.
The point of the key is not to know what it unlocks, but to be able to open it when I find it.