Chair Outdoors

Seven chairs stand on my deck clustered in three conversation groupings, two sets of two and a set of three. Why is it that just seeing them in their familiar places adds to my of sense of being held in this place, my sense of ease and comfort? Just empty on the deck, those chairs feel right.

I've seen pictures of an empty chair on a beach overlooking the ocean, or an empty hammock hung in a lovely, natural place. Those pictures are often part of some advertisement. So I'm not the only one who feels some stirring when I see an empty chair set just so outdoors.

What invites us?

I have sat in each of our deck chairs in their various locations. Each offers a place to put down a drink; each offers its specific design shape and its way of holding the body; each offers a unique, specific view of the surroundings. In mild weather I often go outside with my first cup of coffee. Sometimes I have the pleasure of sharing the space with a friend. If the whole family is around, the chairs are easy to regroup and sometimes we all do go outside together.

I stack and cover the chairs once cold settles in, leaving just two in the protected southwest corner by the sliders. Any sunny-surprise day in winter might find me sitting outside there for a little while, just soaking up the gift of an easy, direct experience of the natural world. I find pleasure in having available a lovely place to sit outside.

But what feels so inviting about those arranged-and-in-place chairs even when they're empty?