The veranda stretched the entire frontage of the house. Amber could smell the freshness of the white paint as she sunk into one of Aunt Polly's floral-cushioned wicker chairs. She loved to sit there no matter what the weather was doing. In summer the grey slate roof kept off the harshness of the sun. In the fall she could sit back and watch the endless rain. In the winter she would curl under a duvet with her book as the hail bounced off the lane. In spring she would clasp a warming mug of tea and look for the new flowers poking through the grass that had begun to shoot up. She could watch the world go by from the veranda and greet all the neighbors as they passed.

By mudslide, October 21, 2013.