The view from the porch (photo credit: Shanon Wood)
I spent some time porch-sittin’ yesterday with some good friends. Just lethargically shooting the breeze that lightly rustled our hair. Just sitting, watching the sun move the day toward its end—easy like Sunday morning. Laughing. No pressure. Gazing at the bumble bees and soldier beetles get drunk on the nectar of the Burr Marigold.
Despite the title of my memoir that I’m never going to write, “Prosecco on the porch”, I just don’t do enough porch sitting. It’s the kind of thing that gets forgotten in the great rush of the agricultural season. Until now. Now, our bodies creaking from the weight of the season, the cool evenings and low angled sun lighting the hillsides like firelight might just draw us outside for a little prosecco on the porch. Just a little soul soothin’ porch sittin’.