My front porch is one of my favorite places on earth. With white columns and a row of rocking chairs, it is quintessentially southern. I’m not alone in my love of a good porch. For many of us, a porch symbolizes a stress free zone, a place where you can sit and talk or read, or just rock and enjoy the sound of the crickets singing in the darkness.
Porches are magic. Neither in nor out, they offer the best of both worlds. While sitting on the porch, I am not constantly reminded of tasks that need doing inside, nor can I see all the jobs that need doing outside. Instead, I put my feet up and rock away the hours.
The author, Paulo Coelho wrote” A best friend is someone with whom you can sit on the porch, without a word, and then walk away with the feeling it was the best conversation that you ever had in your life.”
“Porch conversations” in my household are usually not the silent kind. My husband, Jack, and I eat dinner on the porch every night during the summer. We often linger after eating, watching as daylight fades and fireflies dazzle one another (and us!) with their bright, blinking lights. Sometimes we sit quietly, as Coelho’s best friends do, but usually we talk. Having already caught up with the news of the day, we take this time to share thoughts and dreams, to muse and wonder aloud about things and ideas bigger than ourselves.
This summer, the grandkids discovered the fun of sitting on the porch telling jokes. Each of us brings a list of jokes and riddles and we take turns telling them aloud. It’s something that even the smallest children can participate in because everyone loves a good joke. We could do it inside the house of course, clustered around the dining room table or sitting in the family room. Somehow, though, gathering on the porch, rocking in the rocking chairs with kids in laps and dogs at our feet sets just the right tone for sharing this time together.
Of course, being a plant-o-phile, I can’t help but put as many plants as possible on the front porch. During the summer my porch becomes a jungle as all my tropical houseplants get three or four months of fresh air and sunshine. Most of them thrive and experience a huge growth spurt, making it a challenge to find room for them in the house in the fall. But, I don’t mind, they all seem so happy outside, like kids at summer camp.
I have to admit that my porch plants will never win any beauty contests. Most of them I keep for sentimental reasons. I have a huge aloe plant from my mother, a basket of ferns from my son’s wedding, lucky bamboo that our children gave us the year Jack and I met, and Jack’s mother’s rabbit foot fern which won a prize at the Atlanta Flower Show 35 years ago.
The begonias are my “arithmetic” plants as every year they multiply and I divide. Each fall I pot up little divisions to give away at Christmas.
Occasionally, we will have a front porch party and put out long tables, hang up Christmas lights and turn on soft music. Sometimes I’ll wander down to the street and look back at my family gathered on the porch, talking, laughing, eating and just enjoying being together and I know that someday I might be tempted to sell our house but I will never, ever want to sell the porch.
So much fun to read!
Thanks so much. It’s so much fun to write!
I feel that way about my porch and view of the pond. It is a special place to sit and be. Thank you for writing about the experience so beautifully.
Thanks, Charlotte. Front porches ARE magic!