Quietude

I’m in the Adirondacks.

That’s what I just texted to my husband who finished a workout in a field not far from me. I went for a mile or two walk to explore a nature preserve down the road from our lodging and the photo with the header of this post is what I saw as I emerged.

The Adirondacks is a state of mind for me, as well as a chair and a location – it’s not my geolocation right now. But mentally, it is.

I’ve sat in a lot of Adirondack chairs, a symbol of being at leisure, rest, down to earth. The seat angles within inches of the grass, or sand or water.

When I was young, I remember thinking how uncomfortable the wooden slats looked. Viscerally, not appealing as a tool for relaxing at all. But they were everywhere in the New England vacation town I worked in every summer during high school and college. For the image.

Now, some 35 years later, gravity provides me my own cushion and the chair provides me respite and a view. The resin adirondack chair by my garage back in Ohio overlooks concrete and pines that separate neighbors. It doesn’t lure the way the wooden ones by the water or firepits do.

Maybe we aren’t meant to be in Adirondack states of mind year-round. But finding a way to inject it into daily life – that would be an accomplishment.