The Beach Chair pulls people in. Today, it was a forty-something asian woman who sat in the sunshine.
“You’ve got the best seat in the park,” I said.
“I know, hey, can you take my picture?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I said.
Only a handful of tourists have asked me to take their photo. I like offering to take photos for tourists. You know they wanted to ask, but didn’t. Why did this woman have the courage to ask for what she wanted?
“I’ve never seen anything like this chair, sitting at a beach, it’s beautiful,” she said.
“I know. I chatted with the guys who made it and they said that they had to take the tree down, so they made a chair,” I said.
“Oh, that was so nice,” she said.
Monty and I continued on our walk and when we returned there was nobody in the chair. We stopped. I sat in it for the first time.
The sun wrapped around me like a down-filled sleeping bag. A breeze floated by my cheeks. Sawdust sprinkled the grass like powdered sugar on a chocolate dessert. Ahhh, fresh-cut wood.
The chair was wide enough for two -- nature’s club chair. My head rested on the high back in a perfect angle towards the sun. My legs dangled off the seat diagonally, and in perfect height for the foot stool. My arms relaxed on the foot-wide chair’s arms.
The 3pm sun was directly in front of me and everybody on the seawall were silhouettes.
“That’s a cool chair,” a voice said.
I opened my eyes and smiled at a woman pushing a stroller up the path beside me.
My hand hung over the side to touch my dog and I closed my eyes.
Photo by Kimba