Monday, August 31, 2009

The Porch

When I was growing up, our back porch was open. At one end was the well and the entrance into the backroom. At the other end was our porch swing. As a child, I would sit on the swing with my syblings and friends, even those friends with fur. We sat on the swing to snap beans and shell peas. When company came, we sat on the swing and visited.

Then I became a teenager. A nice evening always ended up sitting on the porch swing holding hands and talking. When the swing went back and forth, it made a rhythmic sound. If the swing stopped and Dad didn't hear a car door, he was out the door to check on the lovers sitting on the porch.

Later Mom and Dad screened in the porch. The swing was taken down and a glider took it's place. Still the kids would play on the porch gliding back and forth on the glider. Grandbabies were rocked and small children took naps. Beans were shelled and peas were shelled. Family gathered and neighbors were always present.

We could now sit on the porch and watch storms, the farmers in the fields, the inspiring sunsets. The children chased lightening bugs, and we gazed at the stars. It became gallery seating for the older family members to watch the kids play croquet and a place to watch the children once more investigating the barn.

The old swing stills hangs stored in my garage waiting to some day hold another generation. Until then, the old memories warm my heart and take me home again.

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