There's a house I walk by on one of my favourite pathways. You know, THE house. The one in your neighbourhood you're drawn to, because it just speaks to you in some way. Its backyard faces the path I walk on, and I can't help but slow down each time as I go past!

Mine has a covered deck, it's decorated tastefully with flowers that cascade from their pots, some housed in wrought iron shapes. It has stone buddhas, and a birdbath that sits in the corner closest to where I walk by. There are willow woven chairs and watering cans that lie on their sides, just so (perfectly). And a casually leaning rusty bicycle.

Only once in all the years I've walked by and admired, have I seen the owner. Relaxing on a yellow cushioned seat, a glass of white wine by her side, and wait for it, reading a book.

I think she and I would be a friends!

This house gives off a feeling of tranquility, as if soft music is often played inside, maybe from a piano. And that there would be tall bookcases and polished hardwood floors inside.


The other day I noticed that the deck was bare. No reclining chairs, no flower pots, no barbecue. I felt a shudder, because something must have happened.

A few days later I saw that the willow birdhouse had been removed and the grass had grown longer along the fence.

I will never know what happened to the lady who lived there. Was she away? Was she sick?

But today, as I walked by the darkened house, I knew that it has emptied.

I kept walking but anyone who saw me would have noticed my slowed step. Because yes, I was thinking about her and the house I'd grown so fond of.

Courtesy Pixabay GeorgeB2

Two doors down from there, a young dad, with a supervising little daughter, was digging to plant some small trees. A woman, clad in a red bathrobe leaned out the door on their deck, checking to see how the planting was going. The adults laughed. The little girl drummed on her plastic pail and sang.

Life changes, it goes on. It's up to us to keep hearing the music. (Tweet This)
In this world of big problems, I will miss seeing my favourite house. It will change because that is what things do. And yet, I am eager to see who moves in and what they will bring to my song.

Now tell me, what everyday things do you add to your song? (Tweet This)

It will change, because that is what things do. (Tweet This)

Stay well, stay kind.