Window Seats

I have a dream of having a house with a window seat. Ever since reading "The Ring and the Window Seat," I have dreamed of sitting in one, looking out the window, lost in thought. Many of the stories in my head have a character who sits in a window seat to think.

Sometimes it is a rich and dark window seat, with curtains that could be let down, keeping the window draft from entering the room, but also creating a secret place to hide. The curtains are heavy and red. The seat is covered by a thick cream, red, and green striped upholstery. And there are a few pillows to accent the alcove; on is round and green with a fringe that has seen better days, but is still perfect for stroking when working on a tricky thought.

Outside this window is a rolling and wild scene. Sometimes there is an ocean crashing far too close for it to be realistic. Sometimes it is the Virginia mountains and rolling fields, spotted with meandering cows. And sometimes there is only hills and trees for as far as the eyes can reach.

Sometimes the window seat is open and bright white with a pale green cushion to sit on. There is a hanging plant on one side of the window, and its vines climb around the other corner and continue to spread down the sides, forming a natural valance. The entire room is brighter because of the window seat, and under the seat is a small bookshelf of familiar favorites.

Outside this window is an open lawn. There are flowers in beds; the grass is mown; all is in order, right to the wooden fence, keeping prying eyes from intruding upon the open window, perfect for reading or thinking.

Those are my two favorite imaginings, but sometimes there are important differences. Often there are lace curtains in the window, and no fence outside. Occasionally, little hand prints smudge the glass, signalling that it is the best place to wait for Daddy to come home from work. On rare occasions there is a tissue box nook and a tea-cup shelf, because both tissues and tea are necessary, and I like having things handy.

Maybe someday I will have a real window seat, but in someways it doesn't really matter. I will always have my own little corner and my own little chair, where I can be wherever I want to be.