I sit in this chair and listen to music, sometimes 3-4 records in a row. I read. I make every single phone call from this chair. I think. I find branches and colors and movements that grab me every single day. There's an old fence that marks the end of my building's property, but right beyond, small yellow buds jump above. And right in front of me is a fig tree. We've eaten those figs. And soon we'll be grabbing the next batch.
But it's really the wind and the green and the sky. To my eyes and ears, it may just be the most beautiful place in the world.