The Bench

The front porch is my spot.  From April through October if the weather is fair that is where you will find me.  While I enjoy watching the seasons changing, I am saddened when the weather turns cold, and I must pack away my cushions until Spring. 

My bench on the porch is particularly special to me.  I asked my dad to fashion it for me out of the head and foot boards of my grandparent’s bedframe.  For the seat he used old pews that were being discarded from my home church.  The shelf beneath the seat holds all manner of sticks and stones. I often sit and pray our child who is often climbing the dogwoods or flying down the hill on his bike won’t break any bones.  I have to wonder how many prayers my grandmother lift did when she laid her head down at night. And how many prayers were spoken and liturgy recited from the very pew where I sit.

I love to lounge there like a cat soaking in the sun.  Often, Sirius Black joins me in the late afternoon, and we nap together lulled by the breeze.  We often have hummingbirds buzzing by and butterflies landing at our feet. We watch the flowers bloom and leaves change while the deer pick their way across the yard.  Books get read, poems get written, homework gets done, all on my sweet little bench.

Do you have a spot like mine?  Why is it special to you? What kinds of memories do you make there?