Or the front porch. Or the lawn chair on the front lawn. I write of one of the under-appreciated almost-neccesities of life.
San Francisco, California, Friday afternoon, 5:30 p.m., 10 April 2015. Just the right amount of breeze, just the right amount of cool. Dogs and their obedient humans enjoy their daily joyful reunions, followed by the daily stroll to the park.
Watching the world walk by on a Friday afternoon at 5:30 p.m. with a freshly-arrived magazine to read and an iPhone at one side playing vintage Dave Matthews Band and on the other side a rather decent dirt-cheap red in a clean wine glass.
And the world strolls by.
The occasional nod to someone walking home who looks at your clean wine glass of dirt-cheap red and seems to think, “That looks like a good idea.” Sometimes even a mutual hello with someone you do not know.
And that makes the front stoop, or the front porch, or the lawn chair on the front lawn, one of life’s almost-necessities.
It restores sanity.
Vonn Scott Bair