Retreat to the Front

When life gets to be a bit much, I retreat to the front porch, my grandparents’ porch. It isn’t far–just a thought, a smile away. The porch is cool and shady, the rocking chair is comfortable. I see past the rock steps at the foot of the yard. I see across the road to Pappy’s barn, the spring house, the creek. I see the pasture with the hay rake sitting there, waiting to be used. And I see the sun just beginning to slip above the trees that separate the farm from the river. It’s a pleasant place, that front porch, and it’s there waiting for me, any time I want to come and sit a spell.

It’s nice, sometimes, just to close my eyes and go where life is slower, safer and troubles are a long, long way down the road to the future. There, in the pleasant and peaceful past, is a good place to rest and re-charge batteries. That’s what imaginations are for, isn’t it? We wouldn’t want to stay there forever, but to go back to be re-fueled, relax, and take a deep breath–well, it’s important. Your place of retreat may not be a front porch; it may be somewhere else just as pleasant, but it’s there. All you have to do is close your eyes and imagine.