Spring must be in the air….because I’m front door dreaming. Before I get the urge to clean up and make our back patio cozy, I always feel compelled to paint the front door.
It started about eight years ago when
I painted the front door turquoise after a trip to England. Houses lined up tight to each other, sometimes hard to tell when one rolls into the other. It’s the door that is always the dead giveaway. The Brits have a way of making their homes standout by the color choice of their door. Sometimes it’s not even paint. Sometimes its flowers. Doorways draped with wild greens or crawling in color by way of blooms.
Currently, our door is bright yellow. I’ve had the urge to paint it the past few years, but maybe not the will. Or was it the energy?
My one-day, some-day house has a Dutch door. I can’t tell you if it’s the front, back or side door. Probably some kind of side door that opens up to a crazy wild garden where I take my tea and write. The weather is warm and I can either smell the sea air or see mountains off in the distance. I can never decide, mountains or ocean?
As of now, in the middle – middle of the country, almost middle of life – I’ll settle for a new color update to the old door that I’ve open and closed for most of the first part of my life.
While I love the bright pink door, which fits perfectly in Charleston, outside of Chicago, I’m thinking black. I know, maybe I should keep color to cure long winter blues. But in some way black feels like it might be grounding. Kind of grown up. Kind of committal. Like I’m not trying to escape through my front door, but settling into today, into now.
Pink dutch door that opens to a wild garden, with the smell of the sea or a mountain view, I’m not letting go of you. One-day, some-day in a tomorrow we will make ourselves at home with each other.
I’m curious, what color is your front door?