Once upon a time my sisters, doing what OLDER sisters do (sorry sisters, you are what you are) decided to brow beat me into having a garage sale. They thought cars should park in the garage. So, being the obedient younger sister that I am--Watch for the Pooka story one of these days--then you will know how much I was under their older-sisters-are-always-right-and-know-everything spell--I said okay, let's do it.
So we did. The garage spilled it's guts onto the driveway, lawn and porch--such as it is, the porch is so small it's really just a stoop, but stoop is such an ugly word and besides that I think stoops belong to New York City so we have a porch. Never mind that when the trick-or-treaters come, all bunched up like a gaggle of witches and ghosts, and you open the door, at least one of them is in danger of being catapulted into the darkness.
Anyway, the garage sale was a success. Monetarily and in the fun quota. I love a good visit and I met lots of nice people. When the day waned and we were dripping with exhaustion on the lawn swings I noticed an item that didn't come from the garage. A chair. A yellow kitchen chair, hovering on the outskirts of the lawn. Perhaps it saw the frivolity and wandered in to join the fun. Anyway, it had wandered into the wrong company. No force on earth was going to allow my sisters to allow the yellow stranger into the garage and so it got dumped in the back yard overlooking what in those days we laughingly call a garden. We do better in the garden skills now but that too is another story for another time.
When the new/old chair settled in and we lounged on it occasionally while wiping the sweat off our gardening brows. It migrated to the shade under the apple tree but we were not really apple growers and so the poor apple tree, who was trying it's very best, lost a limb each year to a heavy apple production. Finally, when the apple tree resembled an apple stalk The Chair got disgusted with us and wandered off to greener pastures. Honest it did.
In time we forgot about The Chair until the ever alert photographer posted a photograph of a chair, which, so help me, I think is The Chair with a new hairdo. I think it went into the Chair-witness-protection-program, changed it's look and went to greener pastures--or a greener wildflower meadow, as seen in the photograph.
I am happy to know it is safe and fulfilling the measure of it's creation, to bring rest to weary travelers or at least amusement to weary photographers. But, I am sad to see that it wore it's little legs off in the journey. But then again, maybe it's legs are folded up tidily in the lotus position and it is meditating, all the time communing with nature. Yes, that's what I think it is doing. Communing with nature.
So, there you have it. The rest of the story.