Porches
Over the years porches, such simple things, have changed and become mere ornaments. One dictionary defines it as a noun “a covering over the front door of a house”; symbolic of protection from the elements and the entry into a family’s life.
Today a “front porch” is a statement about how clever the lady of the house is and a testament to the family ’s earning power. It also creates “curb appeal” which translates in to value. Various styles are used to convey something of the owner. Some present a sentimental, sophisticated motif with wicker and Martha Stewart color coordinated cushions, where no one sits. In the more rural areas, the theme might be the Old West or mountain life and weekends devoted to scouring garage sales and junk shops for memorabilia. Yet no one sits in the rockers or straight back chairs. Signs by the door announce “Welcome” but families are seldom home and the doors are dead-bolted; protected from everyone.
Back in the day, in rural Mississippi, porches were gathering places for families and friends. Furniture was functional consisting of an old rocker; maybe a creaky swing; mismatched chairs and children sitting on the steps, or a cinder block. Listening to the parents and old folk talk. When the youngsters tired of adult chatter, they might catch fireflies or play hide and seek in the gathering dusk, shrieking and laughing until collapsing. No toys were needed; imagination carrying them through the gathering dusk.
Life on the farm was hard and went from sunup to sundown with few chances for entertainment, outside of the occasional church potluck or the yearly Memorial Day in May. Anytime the adults could sit a spell, it was welcomed. Over the years the rhythm of life changed, some say for the better, but I question that. Faster is not better. Bigger is not better. This has made us more and more isolated. And more depressed.
The human soul needs porch time. To sit and mend the shirt; shell some peas and talk to each other while the children race around in the dark laughing.
In memory of my Aunt Annie Mae and Aunt Janis
My first house was 720 square feet. But we had a front porch with an old wooden swing. I loved hanging on that front porch by myself or with friends. I love your words "the human soul needs porch time."
ReplyDeleteOne of the many things I love about Mexico is how families hang out side on the street. Talking and laughing and visiting with whoever is passing by!
DeleteI spent many hours on my grandparents porch. Blowing bubbles from dish soap and water in a bowl. Rolling on the grass with my cousins. Yes Susan we need more porch time
ReplyDeleteI don't know how it is in your part of the world but even in the rural South, it is not the same and we have lost something esstential.
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