The breeze glides gently across the front porch and carries with it the smell of lilac and freshly cut grass. Shaded from the sun, it is cool and dark and inviting. Decorated in soft greens, oiled bronze and shade loving flowers, it evokes a peace and stillness that calm the soul. My side of the settee faces toward the street and I lean up against him, watch traffic, wave to neighbors or just enjoy the blooms on the rhododendron, fuchsia and bright, enormous yellow jackets buzzing in each blossom. The hum of the bees is constant while the tree is in bloom, only broken up with the occasional bullfrog’s croak, singing to its mate.
A pair of Chickadees build a nest in the birdhouse by the front door and we wait anxiously for the day we hear tiny chirping from the nest. As the one sings to its mate, he pulls me close to his chest and I close my eyes, listening to the single-note call and reveling in the moment.
Bare, dirty feet are required on the porch. Heels and work boots are quickly shucked off and toes wiggle and cool propped on the table or railing. It’s the perfect spot for a Shitzuh to sleep away an afternoon and watch the birds and the bees and give the mailman a half-awake growl.
Dawn, heat of the day, middle of the night. The porch is the perfect balm for any hour. It makes my soul sing.