The Patio

I knew I shouldn’t look at this apartment. It was everything I wanted, except for the price. I looked at five other places before I finally gave in and went to this place I was already in love with, knowing I would want it. Knowing it was more than I wanted to pay. Knowing I would pay it anyway.

As I walked around the empty rooms, with yellow gleaming hardwood floors under my feet, my worst fears and fondest dreams were realized. This was everything I imagined, and more.

When I stepped up to the doorway, in what had once been the window seat looking out over the rooftop of the apartment below, I knew I was lost. The patio is enclosed with weathered boards, grey with age, and a little rickety in spots. There is a small window where the bathroom is, and a rooftop with the neighbor’s window just above it. There is a long bench seat along the side closest to the house, and the space is large enough for a few chairs and a table.

I immediately start envisioning my life there.

Wine and Nosh nights with friends. Small white twinkle lights glowing all around the space, comfortable chairs covered in bright cushions, and flowers growing riotously in the full sun. The occasional squirrel, running across the boards with a pizza in her mouth. (I’ll call her Gladys.) My friends, laughing, joking, the pandemic forgotten, freedom our norm once again.

No masks, no restrictions, a life full of love and joy, and an excess of cheese and snacks, grapes and cucumbers, little sandwiches with the crust cut off, and fancy wine glasses.

I will get an umbrella to protect my delicate skin from the harsh summer sun. It will also protect me from the curious eyes of my neighbors, whose windows look down over the social area I will claim all my own. (Though there will be nights I forget to put the umbrella up when I wander outside a bit tipsy at 2 am, wearing nothing but my panties- good thing it’s late.)

Books will pile up outside when the weather is nice, because we all need a selection to choose from. A small ice bucket finds a home along the side of the table; white wine needs a place to keep cool—bubbles in hot pink bottles to blow in the sun and deter the mosquitoes. Funny sayings on square coasters and shiny glass bottles with Pride flags and fresh flowers decorate the table.

When are we at our Wine and Nosh nights, my friends will ask, “When can we all get together again in this charming, warm space?” We seek times to get together as much for the patio as for the friendships. It’s everyone’s comfort zone—the place we all want to meet.

“You won’t be home? Can we use the patio while you are traveling?” Hosting wine and nosh nights without me would seem weird, except this is The Patio.

It’s where everyone is home.

I just moved out of this apartment, and it is probably the part of the home I will miss most. When I lived there, I spent all afternoon and evening on the patio in the summers, coffee in the mornings, lunch breaks in the sun… All my friends received texts with photos of my feet, on the table, a glass of wine in my hand, and a book on my lap- a few times over the summer- because that was my favorite place to be. When I came across this short essay I had written about the patio, even though we are in the middle of the cold dark winter season here in the Northeast of the United States, I thought is was an appropriate time to share, as I move away from this phase of my life and head into one with totally different patios (or none at all.)

Do you have an outdoor space you cannot live without?