The Fourth Dimension
A friend and I were having tea in the backyard when we both spotted a little bird perched on the fence. In his beak, he had the end of a cord tied to my climbingrose and kept on pulling. Naturally, he couldn’t succeed and each time he took a few steps back, he lost his grip. But the little fellow wouldn’t give up.
“I wish we had a video camera to tape this,” my friend said.
When the bird finally gave up and left, I cut a piece of the cord and loosely tied it to the fence for his next trip. The following day, the cord was gone and I imagined how he had carried it to be used in building a nest.
That little bird’s perseverance is just an example of the love all creatures manifest for their homes. While man has proven to be the epitome of homebuilders, he seems to have lost sight of what a home is for. It may be the place for peace and security for other animals, but our homes need to entertain and accommodate many guests. Then again, isn’t it this same aspect of life that makes life more meaningful?
The best reward of my success has been the chance it gives me to visit book clubs and meet people. Book discussions have brought me to many lovely homes, each with its own unique ambience. I am deeply touched as each host adds a “Persiantouch” in honor of my “Poppies” and admire the variety of their unique touches.If a writer has to finally leave her cave and come out to meet readers, I can’t think of a better way for it. I recently had another chance for such experience and suddenly realized that, when it comes to size, there are four dimensions to a home.
The address I had for this book club was closer to downtown San Diego, where I am less familiar. I printed the Google directions and drove to a nice neighborhood in San Diego. On a secluded side street of the peaceful neighborhood, I found number 4136 and climbed the few steps onto the front porch of a “craftsman house.” The door opened before I had a chance to ring the bell and I was met by the hostess and greeted by many readers. This was a familiar prelude to yet another book club meeting and their warmth reassured me of the good time ahead.
Following the initial introductions, the guests were ushered outdoors, where lunch would be served before beginning our book discussion. The sun was out, but the warmth that met us had little to do with it. The walled-in area was what Californians call an “Outdoor Living Room”. Over the years, I’ve seen and admired a variety of these, yet this one seemed to have an extra measure of ‘living’.
From the open verandah that offered a cool spot for a glass of wine to the beautifully set table under the umbrellas, the place shamed one into relaxation! Here, life became less serious and joy was the only choice. Even the hummingbirds held their own feast around a lovely bird feeder. I took in a deep breath and savored the scent of fresh gardenias.
The high walls reminded me of back home, where one could forget the city and enjoy privacy day and night. Indeed this small area was where there was life. M ywriter’s imagination could picture the hosts enjoying starry nights, when theonly light came from flames of the corner fireplace, or the moon above. Between pink hydrangeas and climbing vines, I saw more gardens here than I had seen in acres and acres of some neighborhood lawns. I could hear children running around and laughing at a Sunday barbecue. While our hosts went around to make sure their guests were happy, the garden grew bigger and bigger. Indeed there’s a fourth dimension to a home as it is love that decides its ultimate size.
Fo ra few days now the thought of that cozy backyard has stayed with me. How lost we are in our search for bigger homes, paying attention only to numbers. We each come to this world with a space within us and it can only expand if we share affection and let others into our hearts. How easy it is to neglect the fourth dimension.
I clip my roses and notice a new bird’s nest on our lemon tree. My daughter would know what kind of bird built this. To me, they are but little artistic nests for creatures that only need a place for a short while. Birds don’t ask for more, don’t need a larger space and never seem to stay long. In fact, the size of a nest often indicates to that of the bird. It’s us humans who need a bigger space to rest our caged souls.
I bring a few roses inside. I need these on my small kitchen table to expand the space. When we first moved in, I thought the kitchen was too small. But we no longer need a bigger one because as the years go by, this kitchen seems to grow.
The yellow roses look lovely on our table. My husband offers me a cup of coffee,Toby settles at my feet, and I suddenly realize ours is the biggest home in the universe.