I’m outside but part of your home, A place to sit and let thoughts roam. Covered or open, I enjoy the sun, Grill and garden chairs make me fun. What am I?

A home of wood, both small and still, found deep in the woods by lake or hill.

Giant scars, born over a milinnia. Jagged rock faces against a deserted backdrop, best watch your step here, or you'll be dead, full stop.

Oceans of golden waves Rippling with the touch of wind Up above, a cornflower blue sky Not a cloud to be seen Until a distinct scent of ozone permeates the air Within moments, the summer storm blooms Bruised purples and stormy greens Rain pelts the flat land below