On one side of the door, the north side, the triangular vase of lilies of the valley cascaded down the wood. On the other side of the door was a draft-stopping bear, legs akimbo, to keep out the Spring winds.
How can it be that the opposites of one door offers a view so totally different? It was one door.
After all, where did it leave, or open, or close? Which side?
Windows are the same.
Are you looking out or looking in? The inside of the window had heavy drapes and gossamer curtains. The outside of the window had the warm breeze of high Summer, the flight of the hummingbirds and the garden fairies.
Last evening the western sundown was especially pretty with blue and pink ribbons threaded through the white and grey puffy clouds. Dozens of blackbirds were on the front lawn and pecking at all the apples that had fallen to the ground. A man’s voice broke the silence and a white car traveled up the street.
Did the sky have two sides like the door? Naturally, it did. As it left us, it entered into another’s daylight far away.
Life is like that.
What we think is the end is actually the beginning.
The journey which takes us away, in time shows us, too, how to return home. What would present itself in the morning? Would the sun return, or would sheets of rain descend to nourish the farmer’s crops and our vegetable garden?
What would tomorrow bring? Would it show us the other side of today, or would it be brand new? Would the new day offer a catastrophe or a redemption? So many questions to be answered because the door opens to a new Summer’s day.
On one side of the door is life however close death is on the other side. It is waiting there, only one breath away. Never known beforehand. Pensive and ponderous. On the escritoire lies the letters unfinished to post to Spokane, Cincinnati and St. George.
The front door is painted white on each side. Some time in the future I would like a bold blue front door that will open to a large kitchen with a door all its own, and a fireplace with mantle and lots of cabinets. Windows will bring in the morning sun and the evening dusk. That kitchen again will be the heart of the home, warm, luxurious, quiet and aromatic.
When I travel I like to take photographs of front doors. The doors tell me so much about the residents. Some are so inviting and some are devoid of any invitation to linger. Some have seasonal wreaths and some are painted red.
Doors have a history beginning in an Egyptian tomb 4,000 years ago. In ancient Egyptian architecture a false door was a wall decoration that looked like a window. It was common in tombs and represented a gate to the afterlife.
On this lovely June day, open your front door and let the breeze waft throughout the home. Listen to the birdsong and feel the incoming warmth of the day. Now is the blessed season of nature walks and of swimming, isn’t it? Of picnics and jolly singing and rambunctious rendezvous with loved ones.