Spring Porch Sitting

    My green plastic chair sits on the front porch and my feet are rested up on the porch post, causing the chair to tip back just a bit to the perfect angle.  With the sun shining, a book in my lap, and the quiet around, I find one of my favorite parts of spring.  It is in the quiet of human sounds, and the increase of the nature sounds around me.  Winter’s quiet gives way to the noise and riotous color of spring as if the very bubbling of life is something that cannot be held back. 

   I sit there, to take it in and read when I remember.  I breathe deep and smell the purple smells of lilac, the light fragrance of green leaves, and warming smell of soil.  A chickadee grand stands from the tip of a tall pine tree.  Chest puffed out, it rills it’s song and sings loud and sweet music.  The notes are intricate and the music seems so large from such a tiny bird. 

   Another page in my book is turned and then I watch the dogs splash about in their kiddy pool.  “Splash Sierra!”  becomes a common cry over the summer on the porch.  She will send water flying behind her, creating a mini tidal wave in a green plastic pool.  Her dark eyes are happy with this first splashing time of the year.  Personally, I think the water is still quite cold and will wait for the sun to warm it.  So, I skirt her splashes for now, and help her stay pointed towards me, and the water away.

   There is just so much to see I can hardly stand to read my book.  Nestling down into my chair, feet up, Diet Pepsi by my hand, and my book resting on my lap, I feel myself warmed by the sun.  I try to soak up the heat, the smell, the feel of spring.  

Pots on the Porch

   Spring must be coming, even though it was thirty degrees this morning, because a porch has been lined with pots. They aren’t fancy or much too look at, a rangy bunch of mismatched colors, beigey green and grayed white, with a mix of shapes and sizes. I see them; dirt spilled here and there showing work in progress. I’m looking forward to seeing what grows in these pots. Seeds to be planted, growing where they are placed.

   Sometimes I don’t come across too fancy. I can have some really interesting hair days or dry skin or just feel off. Truth be told, I would love to just stay in my sweatpants, throw on a t-shirt, and toss my hair up in pigtails or in a ball cap for my going out outfit for the day. Shoes should either be cute and comfy or strictly optional. As a child I would refuse jeans in favor of the comfort of sweats. Still love them! And these are just the surface things, just like that assortment of pots. It is in the dirt, loamy and nutrient filled that seeds are placed and then grow. Blooming up, bountiful in growth, the pots become just an afterthought in the green above them.

Porch

   I am a sucker for front porches, especially when they have swings on them. There is just nothing quite like curling up on a front porch swing on a cool autumn day with a soft sweater, good book, and steaming hot chocolate. But, I will admit that right now I am terribly spoiled by my view out of the front of the house. There are pine trees as well as other types of trees, bright yellow and orange marigolds, and sprawling mint and yarrow.

   But, there are two front porches that really stand out to me. One is in a different state. A bluebird house sits off to the side and has a steady flow of feathered visitors winging their way to and from the perch. Rose buses lined the roadway, showing off their colors to the bees. A swing sits to one side, and from there it I have watched the deer come down the hill and graze in the pasture. Frogs in the dusk start their songs and lightning bugs start their light dance flickering through the plants. Slowly, the sky loses the colors of sunset and black of night seeps in deeper. The stars become visible. The breeze is sweet, the sounds are quiet and full of beauty.
   Another is in the town I live in now. It is on a main road, but is completely framed by flowers. Geraniums, peonies, pansies, and morning glories carpet the street view of the porch. Sitting on this porch, you would hear all of the street sounds muffled through the blooms. I can only imagine the perfume of the flowers on the porch, the colors as the sun plays its way through the stems. I would imagine that it would be a beautiful place to read a book.