I stretch through space, yet hold things tight, a cosmic spiral of distant light.

I wander far on wings of mail, a lightweight traveler, thin and frail. Stamped with care, no wrapper's hide, just ink and views from lands I've spied. From beach or peak, a memory's trace, greetings short in a pictured space. No box confines my brief delight, connecting hearts through day and night.

The first one was the most practical of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Located in Alexandria, Egypt, it used mirrors to reflect light. Alternatively, a residence that is not serious.

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?