Sep 11, 2017

The sunrise on that front porch was, more often than not, greeted with a bowl of fresh-made oatmeal with brown sugar and an old favorite pair of rubber-bottomed slippers. The old man read the morning paper in his rocking chair out there and greeted all the spandexed runners with a hearty “Good morning!” which they returned with a smile and a wave and plates of fudge and cookies left on his doorstep at Christmas time. The house itself was gray stone half way up, then switched to wood slat siding painted a deep forest green, all of which made the stained wood porch stand out that much more beautifully in the morning sun. There was a brick chimney at the back, repaired and serviced well throughout the years so that it still stood tall, wood smoke from the fireplace below cozily drifting off into the awakening twilight sky. And when the teenage boy across the street came out, bleary-eyed, to take out yesterday’s trash, the old man gave him a wink and a wave and the boy chuckled and waved good morning too.