One of my favorite thinking spots is the window in my children's room. From there I can look into the courtyard of the "court" next door, where another thinking spot is found. Leaning on the mast of an old barn no longer in use, someone put a couple of chairs pointing at the direction of the sun before sunset. The position was not taken by chance. In wintertime, our nearest star is so low on the horizon that a small piece of meadow surviving among the walls of a typical Lombard village center has little chances to be lit on a sunny day. When the sky is clear there's a short time frame in every single court for sitting somewhere and soaking with light.
Until not so long ago, from time to time, I could see an old woman sitting on the bench and smoking her smelly cigar while staring at the sun. I like to think that from that seat it is possible to look at another thinking spot, somewhere among the roofs of the surrounding houses.