Our Blue Adirondack Chairs Adds New Face
The opening line to my book Walking Up The Ramp starts with blue Adirondack chairs.
Three New England-blue Adirondack chairs sit peaceably out on our front lawn. One for me. One for James. And, the third is for the friend, old or yet-to-be, who walks by and cares to chat for a while. The southerly facing chairs, carefully arranged under the watchful regard of a waving American flag, overlook Lake Monona whose waters lap at the rocks along the beach roughly seventy footsteps from our front stoop. These chairs in their elegant simplicity have afforded us many hours of silent reading, calm introspection, as well as lively banter, and hearty laughter. This is the spot where eclectic neighborhood conversations erupt around coffee in the daytime, or wine served up with friends around the fire pit when the sun sets. For me, these chairs are a special place where I can escape to read a good book with a cup of Joe, and understand that regardless of what else is going on in my life, there is always a serene and reflective part of the world to call my own.
Those words again came to my mind when hearing what happened the other morning.
Before James and I were up and about, Kuno, a two-year-old who lives one house away decided to go for a little walk. With sureness of where he wanted to head he left his yard, ambled down the sidewalk, and ventured to our home. His mom found him in short order and snapped this photo of a very content child finding a moment of reflection and calm.
Simply a perfect pose. And of course always welcome at our home.