Place Where You Live:

The Porch That Built Me

The roar of cars passing by, the chatter of people talking, and the car wash washing the next awaiting dirty car, are the familiar sounds of my childhood and teenage years. In Cuba, New York, on my front porch, that overlooks the main road, is where I feel most secure. It is where I grew up and spent the majority of summer days.

            My front porch faces the main road in my town, Cuba, and is the one place I can always count on to be there whenever I need a place to unwind. It is always there when I need to curl up and read a good book, or when I need a place to clear my head. The rumble of car engines starting and the blur of cars speeding by are soothing and peaceful. I have spent day after day and night after night watching the black and yellow of the road begin to blend into one as I became more and more relaxed from the swing that overlooks the main road of town. The old wooden swing attached to the roof of the porch by old chains in the corner has been there for at least nineteen years. It is a great place to rock one to sleep. The curve in the wood on the back of the swing fits perfectly into the small of one’s back and makes it easy for the swaying of the swing to relax one’s self.  The sounds of the wood creaking and the chain popping are now noises that I could fall asleep instantly to.

From warm, sunny, summer afternoons to brisk, windy nights, my front porch has always been a place to unwind and watch the world fly by.  The old, rickety rocking chairs and warn-in swing are all that is needed to enjoy a summer’s afternoon. My porch has always been close to home and always there when I need a place to relax and just swing life away.