The Back Porch

It is a stunning Spring morning. I am sitting on our back porch. Screened in with skylights and a ceiling fan, it is just about the best place in the whole wide world for morning quiet time. Our house backs up to parkland and a dense grove of trees separate our yard from the yards on the street that runs parallel to ours. I love to come out here early morning, watching the sun rise over the houses and trees, listening to the birds sing a song of praise worthy of recording.

The inside of our house is boxy; the rooms not conducive to party flow. The back porch and deck, however, have become party central: birthdays, end of seasons, welcomes, annual crab feasts, or simple last minute gatherings of whomever is here for lunch or dinner.

The back porch has been the setting for many a small group meeting. A gathering place for our collective desire to come together to laugh, cry, pray, study, and eat. Especially eat. The morning of Beth’s death, we all ended up here to cry and remember; to laugh and sip coffee and eat cake.

As My Man and I look forward ten years or so, we have already agreed that the number one must have in our next house is a screened porch. Well, that and a view and access to The Lake. I’m already imagining what it will be like to sit there, looking over The Lake, writing, studying, praying, and partying.

More memories to capture, to record, to share.

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