Porch Sitting

Evening Approaches

^{By Annette Gagliardi}

Grey-brown creeps over the horizon

on its way to sundown, shading the bridges

and ridges of trees, hills and buildings as it

gathers the troops of night for a full-scale

assault on the brightness of day,

offering another brand of illumination

that supplies shadow by the bucketful,

adds nuances to all the shades

not seen during the day—chases

the clarity of day away. “I surrender.”

I say in my most mysterious voice.

Like a lover, night obliges my request

embracing daylight and me with it.

We are cocooned in shades of night,

hued into submission by the tones of twilight.

I love that night comes on slowing these days, as the summer sun lengthens the days and creates an after-supper time to stroll the neighborhood, create chalk art, linger in the yard with weeding, watering or noticing what is around. Yes, I know the daylight is shortening with every twenty-four hour cycle, but August/September evenings seem longer, somehow that earlier in the summer.

Last night on our walk we saw a tiny grey mouse. Imogen had been grumping along, because of whatever 3-year-olds grump about, but was instantly mesmerized by the diminutive rodent, who must have had a broken leg; did not run so fast. So, we got a chance to look and exclaim before letting him go on his ragged way.

Earlier in the day we had read Appley Dapply Nursery Rhymes, with “Appley Dapply, a little brown mouse”. Imogen decided this small grey mouse was Appley Dapply’s country cousin. We named him Pete the Country Cousin.  She skipped and sang the rest of the way home, her sheer delight so very evident it made us happy too.

We have more wildlife than a person might think, for being in the city. Of course, there are the squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, voles and birds.  We spied a fox last week on our walk down to Lake Harriet. My daughter used to have a family of racoons living in the neighbor’s tree that overlooked her garage. The kids spy grasshoppers, butterflies, beetles, worms, grubs, all kinds of creatures that we adults would rather overlook. Yet, the discovery is always infectious.

There are wild turkeys roaming—a hen with three poults, that we tend to see early in the morning or later, during this evening-time before dark sets in. They were jumping into the neighbor’s cherry tree to grab those sweets, then roosting in a nearby pine. Now, they just stroll, perch on fences and act like celebrities.

Our front porch is perfect for this time of year. The large windows allow a cross breeze. We have the ceiling fan if the weather gets really muggy and still. Our guests always comment on how inviting the porch is, and we agree.  Now that we’ve trimmed the bushes in front of our yard, we can wave to folks walking by, and see those animals as well as dogs being walked, folks on bikes, etc. Our porch light allows us to linger past the dimming of the day while the warmth remains.

This time of year, just before the rush of school, before the chill of autumn and the need for layers of clothing, is the time we truly enjoy the porch. The swing and Adirondack chairs have cushions to ease you into the novelty of sitting.  Even with social distancing, we can carry on a short—or longer conversation through the porch screens, with folks who stroll past.

I’ve placed the bistro set on the porch and set a flower on the table. You are invited to come join me in a sip of iced tea. Perhaps there will be fresh scones or zuchinni bread. We seem to be making lots of zuchinni bread these days as a way of foisting our excess zuchinni onto the neighbors. I cannot promise sweets daily, but there is always a chance for a cup of tea and a sit down.