The View

The View

Andrew sat down in the lawn chair in front of the bushes. It had been quite a while since he’d sat out here. But that was beside the point, he closed his eyes, thinking of what to say.

Finally he just started, “I know you’re here.”

No sound came back, he hadn’t expected one, he didn’t even glance back, he knew the pathway well from his own youth. He just continued talking while looking out over the yard to the road beyond.

“I used to use that very spot to think when I was young. Nice thinking place isn’t it. I used to go there when I got accused of things, just to hash them over. Sometimes it’s not right! Then, sometimes, unfortunately it is.”

He heard a tiny rustle in the bush, so he continued. I always liked to think about it when I wasn’t sure. Things can get confusing. Take that cake. That cake was just sitting there on the table like it belonged to the whole family! I thought maybe it did! But being old, I have learned it’s best to ask first. I wonder if you’ve learned that part yet?”

A small voice came from the bushes, “I don’t think I did Grampa, but I don’t think I will forget next time I see a cake in the kitchen.”

“You know, I bet your mother would like to hear you say that right now. She’s very worried about you.”

“She is? Worried? I thought she was mad!”

“Well, she was mad about the cake, but she’s more worried about her son, that’s how it works.”

“I better go talk to her!”

The bushes rustled, and off he flew.

Andrew stayed in the chair. He’d forgotten how lovely this view really was. Time to remember.