It was a magical October afternoon when I stepped onto the balcony to serve lunch. Dappled sunlight danced across the floor, and way up in a tree, I heard a cardinal singing. Only a few years ago, this second story balcony had made a different impression. We'd dubbed it the Motel 6 porch. It still looked rather homely after we added the cedar shake.
We painted the brick columns, but that was the extent of the balcony remodel. I wasn't sure what to do with the space, design wise.
I thought about it all winter.
I was charmed when spring arrived. We'd gotten lucky: nature had become our personal designer.
Autumn brought the return of slow living.
The black iron cafe table and chairs were left by a previous owner, and I adore it.
At the far end, a spiral staircase leads to the memory/butterfly garden and potting shed.
As it turned out, Motel 6 was a state of mind, not a true state of being. It was eager to transform, using things we already had: slipcovers for the worn chairs, a colorful tablecloth, carefree dishes. And it became a magical perch in the trees, a place to bird watch, to drink tea, and to linger at sunset.