|Have you hosta?|
As I was discussing with Jen recently, sitting out on the porch is one of the simple pleasures in life. Porches are for bare feet, and cups of coffee or tea, perhaps a book, and watching critters when the opportunity arises. Much like the hostas on the side of the house, I feel like I'm in my element on the porch. It's a place to read, write, and think, not to mention go about in bare feet, drink coffee, and watch critters. I feel I excel at doing all of these things.
My affinity for sitting out on the porch can probably be traced to my middle school and high school years. When we moved to our last house in East Liverpool, Nate and I helped Dad build a porch on the house (our help mostly consisted of drilling pilot holes for screws). It was technically off the back of the house, although our house was bordered by perpendicular streets, so you could see the road from the back. There were shrubberies around the porch that Mom had planted, and as we'd sit out on the porch in the evening we'd say hello to people walking the neighborhood, who would sometimes comment on how nice the shrubberies looked. Much coffee was consumed.
|A cup of coffee, some shrubberies round about, and a|
gentle breeze is all you need
To call something a deck seems to imply expansiveness or even grandeur, and to call something a stoop seems to imply a confined space that really isn't all that comfortable or relaxing. A porch can be very nice, yet still inviting. A porch that is worn in is a good thing. A porch is a place you can be at peace for a time because it is a place that prompts pause. It is a place to slow down. Interestingly, it is a place where cloudy conditions are welcome, because they are often paralleled by clarity of mind.