Where oh Where ? Rocking Chairs
WHERE oh WHERE ?
Sometimes a photograph sends us on a journey. We travel in our minds and hearts. Map + Muse asked friends to take a journey with this photograph and this is what they said:
I imagine this to be in northwestern Europe, maybe in the countryside outside of Carcasonne, France, or maybe in Luxembourg. It’s a mild, slow afternoon. Even though I haven’t planned any relaxation or reflection, the moment steals me and I sit and rock, enjoying the calming, vestibular stimulation and escape. It is late summer and although the leaves have not yet turned, the changing season inspires casual introspection. It is quiet, though the breeze through the leaves nearby warns that the temperature may drop tonight. I notice in a way that I don’t normally notice, how aware I am of my experience in this moment. I feel the inertia of my wandering thoughts, without judgement. Ohh….that feels nice! I love little vacations! Thanks for this one!
This is in Savannah, Georgia. If not Savannah, somewhere in the deep South (think Forrest Gump or Gone With the Wind). It’s quiet, serene, and I’m deep in thought as I sip a mint julep. It’s a little cloudy so I imagine that it’s the hurricane season. Damp and humid, but about to get a squall of rain. Not for long though.
I imagine a lovely home, near the coast, looking over a broad expanse of grass, and maybe a waterway beyond the grass. It is a hot, steamy day. I am there for a visit with a friend. She is in the house fetching some sherry. We will sit and talk about all that has gone on in our lives since we were last together, which was at least 40 years ago. We lost touch and have just refound one another. We had been best friends from the 4th grade until we married, when we became separated by our lives taking different directions. Her upbringing had always been chaotic, and my family had been her rock. I am so nervous, but excited to make this reconnection. Waiting, I can feel the humidity, smell the dense vegetation, and feel my breathing all the way to my toes. It is so quiet that you can hear the dampness dripping from the leaves. My ears are the major sense taking over all, waiting to hear her footsteps, which will be palpable on the shiny floors, maybe the floors will squeak.
I am not sure how we will begin. Will we have changed beyond just the obvious wrinkles and reading glasses?. Or will we still be the girls who laughed, loved, cried as teenagers with no holding back to one another?
Who would have ever thought we would find each other in this setting. This is the first time I have been to the Coastal South, and these surroundings are totally different from where our lives had been spent together. I am impacted by the heavy air, breathing coming fast in nervousness, but for some reason I am intensely aware of all the details of this place: the long windows, shutters for when the weather comes viciously from the coast, heavily lacquered veranda floor to shed the continual moisture, and the porch, a place outside that might have a breath of air when the humidity is too much to stay inside. I hear the footsteps. Funny, they are still her footsteps, light, sure (she always had pretty feet, so pretty in flats). I’m not sure I’m ready, but what a blessing, to make this reconnection.