The Porch

The first time I stepped up to this house, the porch made a certain sound. It has that Old-West Boardwalk kind of creak and thump to it.

I love that sound.

Before my hand touched the door, I knew that this was home.

I love to sit here and look at the trees, listen to the wind rustle the leaves. I sat here when it was snowing and just listened to the muted sounds. I listen every morning at 0800 to colors as the Flag is raised at the two bases within earshot, and later at sundown, we can catch the evening retreat. I love sitting here.

Today it just seemed even more needed than ever. Just a few minutes to get away from the noise, the babble, the anger and the constant barrage of the evil.

Coffee. Fog. Silence.

Much needed today…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s