It’s so easy to let my mind get caught up in the whirlwind of chores as soon as my feet hit the floor each morning. Today, however, I decided to take a few moments to enjoy the view from my wide front porch. The weather was a bit nippy, so I pulled the hood of my housecoat over my head, wrapped up in one of those wooly stadium blankets that zips and buckles around you, and took my mug of hot coffee to my Paw-Paw’s rocking chair.
The only sound was the twittering of birds and the creaking of that old rocker as it moved back and forth against the wooden floor. There were no deer to watch, no mist hovering over the leaf-covered expanse I call my front yard. The bare trees enabled me to see clear to, well, clear to my first trail. I sometimes wish I could see to the road in front of my property, so I could watch the cars go by. But to do that would mean clearing more underbrush and cutting down some trees. It would also mean a loss of the privacy that I’ve come to enjoy so much.
During spring and fall, I often have my coffee and even my lunch on the porch. I might have a glass of wine in the swing in the early evening, too. In summers, I have to use the ceiling fan, which irritates the mother birds trying to build their nests in the crook of my beams.
But I didn’t ponder all that this morning. I didn’t make plans for the day, either. I just sat, rocked and sipped, enjoying the cozy feeling of snuggling inside a warm blanket and watching the steam rise from my mug.
A friend once said, “Sometimes me sits and thinks, sometimes me just sits.”
The latter has its benefits.