Room With A View

Solitary Spaces

I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once. - Jennifer Yane

Today, I woke up to cold.

Yes.

Chilly. Crisp. Brisk. Sweater weather.

Seated on my thrifted rocking chair, facing the glass walls that looked onto the deck, I was waiting for blessings that weren’t in disguise.

But I was content. This was one of my favorite solitary spots in the house.

My room with a view.

Looking out, I could see lilac petals that had fallen, rushing along the slatted floor; then stopping, victims of the sporadic wind.

Through the open window, I could hear nothing behind me but the singing of chickadees and the shlush of the freshening breeze across the maple tree.

A red robin darted between its limbs, cutting through the shaft of the dimming sunlight. Meanwhile, a single bird flew by at eye level, then shot straight up to the neighbor's treetops. 

On the deck's corner post, a baby pigeon looked like it had fallen asleep on its perch. Then, it opened one eye, identified me as relatively harmless and closed it again.

Close by, an ugly squirrel glared at me indignantly between the English ivy covering the deck railing. Why did I have shush him every time he raided the birdseeds off the feeders? 

Farther on, darting from behind the neighbor's wood pile, I saw a chubby jack rabbit leisurely hopping up August's branch (the tree so-named by Second Granddaughter because it had sprouted on her birth month).

But sad to say, I've missed seeing our resident chipmunk Chip emerge from underneath his reclaimed home underneath the old sandbox.

Dark clouds were now hanging low and the wind was beginning to blow in gusts. Soon, it would rain. Perhaps, an early snowfall?

It was turning out to be in fact a thoroughly unpleasant afternoon, cold and damp and cheerless and better spent indoors.

So, what to do? 

Take in this moment and make it special.

Lose my way, find my soul.

One room view at a time.