Porch of Dreams

Something happens to people when they sit on my porch.

Their eyes begin to glaze over and their muscles relax. They exhale deeply and melt into the cushions of the chair or couch. They talk about the old-fashioned qualities of such a quaint neighborhood, and how people don't really talk to their neighbors anymore... isolated in those big suburban housing tracks within the fortress of their big McMansions. It reminds me a lot of the move "Field of Dreams," where the idea behind building the field was to bring back a simpler time, when folks enjoyed the all American game of baseball (well, that's not why the field was built, but I won't spoil it for you if you've not yet [unbelievably] seen the movie). Remember this classic line?
This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come.
Today, I head back to work after 3 1/2 weeks on my porch during which I had a lot of great visitors, read a lot of great books (but, alas, did not do any work-related reading!), watched the social comings and goings of many birds, squirrels, and chipmunks, and took a nap or two. My porch will go back to a weekend porch, rather than a weekday porch, and I surely will miss it.


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