The Chair

My grandmother owned a set of wicker chairs that we used to play with, my cousins and I. We filled the chairs with hydrangea from an enormous group of plants that grew year to year. The huge flowers from the plant transformed the chairs into thrones and we took turns being royalty. The bushed themselves were a place to hide between, but the bugs and spider that hid there too quickly made us abandon any idea of occupation. We then dared each other to run through the bushes as tests of courage and skill before we bored and went on to other explorations and challenges. Indian Lakes was an enchanted place I discovered as a child. So when Scott brought me a wicker chair last week for my patio I was more than pleased with his treasure, I was transformed.