A Place to Pause and Listen

Welcome to the front porch

I sit in the dark on my front porch. Through the open window, I hear the soft hush of rain as it falls through the leaves of black silhouettes of trees. I feel the cool air of the evening breeze. Out here, as summer unfolds, I have a front seat to the spectacle. What had been a closed room during the winter is now a place to soak in the sights. During the day, the windows look out onto the lush green yard where birds and squirrels carry on; at night, they reflect back the dark, every now and then interrupted by the headlights of a passing car or the magic glow of a firefly.

Eighteen years ago, when we decided to downsize, we looked through the listings of small houses for sale in our town and came up with a list of three or four open houses to go to on the weekend. On our way to the first open house, we passed this house, only four blocks away from our residence. It was not on our list but was for sale and was open for visiting. As soon as we walked in, first through the window-lined front porch, then through the hallway with its dark woodwork and then through the rest of the rooms, we somehow knew that this was the house we were looking for. Despite an old bathroom and a very sparse kitchen, we could see the possibilities. We immediately put in an offer and put our own home up for sale. Within a month, we were in the midst of the transition.

That summer, we tore out all the old carpet, my partner gutted and rebuilt the kitchen and we repainted. Slowly, this house became ours. When we first saw the front porch, we never imagined how it would become a bonus room. But after removing the all-season carpet, repainting the trim in bright colors and adding a bistro table and chairs, the porch slowly turned into a retreat, a three-season room where we escape for periods of quiet time.

In the spring, we watch as trees put out their leaves and grasses unfurl. In summer, we catch the flight of birds and insects, the continuous parade of blooming flowers, the slow rise then fall of nature. And in the autumn, we take in the glorious colors of leaves before they fall, hear the geese flying away from the approaching cold and witness nature shutting down.

But the front porch has especially become a favorite of ours in the evenings. With screens in place, we are protected from mosquitoes even when the windows are open. We can sit for hours and listen to the patter of the rain or the song of cicadas or the rumble of a train or the chatter of the neighborhood while we write or read. It’s become a place to pause from life’s busyness and breathe along with nature’s rhythms. As we sit in the dark, we fade out of our world and become one with the larger one outside. When we become quiet, we start to hear nature’s voice. And it soothes us and calms us and brings us back to ourselves.

Little did we know when we moved here that what, at first sight, seemed like a random space, is now one of our most used spots in the house, a place to unwind and watch and listen. As I write these words, a murder of crows caws its way through the trees, a baby squirrel scampers up our crabapple tree, a day lily pokes its yellow flowers toward the sun. It’s just another day on the front porch, and so full of the richness of life. 

Where’s your favorite place to pause and listen?