Front Porch Mornings

I love that my front porch faces to the east. There is just one small maple tree in my tiny front yard, and the morning sun shines directly onto my porch. I start my day, every day, sitting on this porch. We have been blessed in southern Michigan with endless sunny days in September and October this year, so I have enjoyed the sweet company of warm sunshine for most of my front porch mornings. Every now and then it’s been cool and cloudy, or even drizzling rain….and I love my morning porch time then, too. It has become a ritual, for my old dog Sadie and me.

My mother gave me two comfy chairs, with a side table that is perfect for my mug of herbal tea and my reading and journaling supplies. It’s a narrow porch, and I often put my bare feet up on the wooden railing. I need to re-paint that railing before the cold settles in, as it is very old and has lots of chipping paint and bare wood showing. The wobbly, splintery old wooden floor-boards desperately need replacement. When I first moved into this house a few months ago, I had a grand idea to replace the whole porch and make it more spacious….but now that I have been inhabiting it I love it just the size that it is, and I only plan to make a few necessary repairs to make it last.

I live in a small rural village, surrounded by quiet and friendly neighbors. Last weekend, I was invited by my nearest three neighbors to join them on a kayaking adventure. We packed up four kayaks, in three vehicles, and met at a chain of lakes 15 minutes away. It was a glorious day, and we paddled about four miles through four different lakes, all connected by winding canals and tiny bridges. It was such a sweet way to connect with my neighbors, and I feel such gratitude for how they have welcomed me so warmly. I have received various invites from several neighbors at the other end of my short street, as well. Small-town life is just the right kind of friendly, for me.

My house is only three houses in from the busy main thoroughfare, and even though this is a very quiet, very small town, that road is a truck-route for semi’s hauling supplies across the state. Fortunately, the speed limit on this stretch of the route is 30 mph, and there are no stoplights or stop signs near where they are passing my street. So the big trucks just slowly rumble on by, but it was still shocking to my sensitive nervous system for the first few weeks or so. Big groups of motorcycles cruise by on weekends, exploring our beautiful countryside full of rolling hills, quaint small towns, and numerous lakes and beaches. Somehow I have mostly adjusted to the road noise, which thankfully nearly ceases in the nighttime. When an 18-wheeler does roll by in the dark of night, it looks pretty cool with its running lights outlining the whole shape of the truck.

I have trained my ears to focus more on the birdsong, when I am sitting on my porch. I intend to put plantings in my yard that will attract more birds, and butterflies, and also visually screen me from that busy road that is just three houses away to the south. Even though my yard is quite tiny, I am grateful for the sunny open grassy space, which is an invitation for me to choose what plants I’d like to surround myself with. My goal is to someday have even less grass to mow. Since this town is so rural, deer walk straight through our yards, so I have to keep that in mind when I choose plants!

My morning porch-time is a time of self-inquiry, and usually includes some meditation, some inspired reading, and some personal writing in my journal. Sometimes a neighbor wanders over for a brief hello and check-in, or a neighbor from up the street gives a friendly little honk as they drive by on their way somewhere. I have become a familiar morning sight in the neighborhood, apparently. (I do have a secluded backyard patio, to the west, when I want total privacy.) I love my morning ritual, which embodies and instructs the slower pace of life that I have come to cherish these days, and helps me to align myself well for the new day. Later in the afternoons, I often walk or ride my bike to one of my favorite neighborhood nature-spots, for some quiet contemplation time in the surround of bigger nature.

As the weather is beginning to turn cooler, I know that the time is fast approaching when it will become uncomfortable to sit still on my porch for long. My hands will be too cold to write. Candles on my dining room table, or a fire in my living room wood stove, will soon become the “sunshine” for an indoor morning ritual. I have been busy stacking firewood in my garage, in preparation. I am also installing an outdoor sauna on my back patio. I know how much I need warm radiant heat during the long cold Michigan winters! This will be my first one again, after five years living in Florida full-time. I do plan to continue spending time in warm southerly places for chunks of the winters, but this winter I am on-call here in Michigan, awaiting the births of two grand-babies!

I plan to order a big case of fresh dates from my friends at datepeople.net, which will make satisfying winter snacks. I will probably haul out my excalibur dehydrator, too, and make some raw pancakes, cookies, and warm dried fruits. Winter will be a good time to finish unpacking in my new home, and organizing my indoor writing and exercising spaces. It will be nice to be easily with family at holiday times, after spending several of them on my own in Florida the past few years.

My daughter-in-law, Aja, came over this week, and we chatted about her plans for a home-birth, and her thoughts about parenting. We sat at the dining room table, and while we talked we made little paintings with inspirational quotes, like the one pictured below (from “The Four Agreements,” by Don Miguel Ruiz). Aja is deep into her nesting-mode, with the baby due within the next few weeks. Their old farmhouse 9 miles down the road from me is still in the messy midst of major renovations, and I am helping her paint the kitchen in the hopes that it’s ready to use before the baby comes. They have been making all of their meals in a makeshift outdoor kitchen for months.

It’s 7pm on Saturday night, and thunder is rumbling through. I tried to get my lawn mowed and the rest of my firewood stacked under shelter before the rain comes, but my hip gave out today and those chores had to be left undone, for now. I am working diligently with a personal trainer, strengthening my challenged left hip and knee, in the hopes that I might regain more function and delay or avoid the hip replacement that’s been recommended. Today felt discouraging in that sense, but I’m getting pretty good at keeping it all in perspective, and I am enjoying some more restful time. I will likely be back at the gym on Monday. Doing my best, whether I’m responding to the need to rest, or showing up for a hearty workout at the gym when I’m able. Each day I’m different, and each day my morning porch time helps me meet myself right where I am.