Porch sitting weather
As a rule, I prefer the fall and winter months; I’m always a little bit warm and it seems like I always have a bit of a contentious relationship with my vehicles air conditioning systems. I guess it could get too cold for my taste, but it hasn’t yet.
The other night, though, I went to get something out of the truck and ended up sitting on the porch for a few minutes soaking in the perfect weather. There was a slight breeze blowing the wind chime back and forth and just a hint of the day’s warmth still clinging to the air.
The porch light was glowing its dim illumination and off in the distance the train blew its whistle as it made its way through town. I heard a coyote trying to entice some sort of prey in the field across the street and dogs barking what I assume was a warning.
It was the perfect night. It sort of felt like what eggs cooked with bacon in a cast iron skillet tastes like; if you asked me what home feels like, I’d say it feels just about like that night on the porch did. Porch sitting is a little bit like Goldilocks and her porridge; it can be enjoyed a little too cool or a little too warm, but it’s best enjoyed when the circumstances are just right.
Not to be a country music cliche, but I think we’d all be better off if the world had a front porch that we could all sit on and relax. I can’t help but wonder how many marriages have been fortified by a husband and wife rocking on the porch after the kids go to bed; generations of grandkids have formed evergreen bonds with their granddads while they cranked an ice cream machine on the steps of a front porch.
For about eight months in 2007 my friend and I spent nearly every night sitting on the porch discussing everything under the stars, and sometimes the stars and their maker, and it might have been the best time of my early adult life.
