Back Porch Sanctuary

It looks like the local newspaper has snubbed me again.  They said, “send in the photo of your porch and tell us why you like it.”  I did.  They never contacted me about having received my photo.  Evidently, they did not like my rusted milk can next to my rocker, its finish now a weathered gray.  Or maybe they didn’t like my description, “the place I come for sanctuary from the world.”  The back porch removes me from the television’s bad news obsession, although I do occasionally take a newspaper with me to sit a spell.  My porch reminds me, in the middle of a busy city, that the true joys are the green leaves that provide a reprieve from the city’s fumes with some fresh oxygen, the breeze that strokes some calmness upon me, and the aviary symphony which charges me nothing for its unique concerts.

As I think about it, I am glad the News and Observer didn’t print my porch photo and my description of why my porch is so important to me.  I really don’t want to be a porch celebrity.  I actually wish I had not sent a photo of the porch at all. Now I’m afraid they might really print it and I’ll be invaded by the paparazzi wanting to photograph my sanctuary!

 Something as uniquely relaxing and soothing as a private back porch should shun all publicity.