It’s the last day of Spring Break, and I’m spending it in my favorite place. My library. The nook that I claimed for my library cabinet, map of Middle-earth, and Jane Austen desk.
Outside, the clouds are growing dense and faintly gray. They’ll build into a storm, I’m sure, but for now, they’re just enough to keep the sun at bay and the air cool.
The narrow window beside me is cracked, allowing only a breath of the breeze outside. With the next weather system on its way, it’s much too gusty for anything more.
But it allows in sounds that are usually muffled by the closed windows and air conditioner most of the year. Dried leaves skipping along the sidewalk. Cars on the distant highway. Neighbors walking dogs of various sorts and sizes. Empty boxes in recycling bins caught off guard by the wind and sent tumbling down the road. All accompanied by a soft soundtrack of instrumental music.
It’s the perfect vantage point to watch the quiet neighborhood go along its quiet business. The mail lady in her truck who enjoys quick conversations with anyone outside and who never seems to forget details. The young man in the recycling truck who leaps out, tosses the empty bottles and junk mail into the openings on the sides of the truck, and flips the bins back into the yard before launching back through the open door where his rock station awaits. The other silent watcher of the neighborhood, the older man just a few houses down who guards the street from behind a perfectly trimmed shrub designed to hide him. I only wave at him when he’s in the open so he doesn’t know that I can almost always spot him.
With how busy life normally is, it’s refreshing to have a quiet afternoon in my favorite place.
What’s your favorite place in your home?