Our front porch is really pretty and inviting. We have two wicker benches and one chair all with comfortable cushions. There’s a couple of tables and in the summer I put a few of our house plants on them. There’s bamboo blinds for shade and privacy from Route 22, which runs in front of the house.
But Jon and I rarely sit there. Sometimes on a Sunday afternoon, I’ll take my book and some tea out there and snuggle in for a few hours of reading. Sometimes I’ll bring my computer and blog from the front porch.
As the back porch has become the domain of Minnie and the hens, the front porch is Flo’s.
Almost anytime of day you’ll find Flo sleeping on the front porch. I feed her there in the morning and in the afternoon. It’s her own little palace and she occupies the space with all the attitude and sense of entitlement that cats possess.
I’ve never seen Minnie on the front porch, (although Flo does use the back porch, Minnie is more generous I think) or the hens. When I do sit on one of those wicker benches to read, Flo always comes and curls up next to me.
Sometimes, when the moon is full, and I get up to go to the bathroom in the night, I can see the front porch glowing blue through the window. It’s hard for me to resist that kind of moonlight. It pulls at me. “Come“, it says, “sit in my cool fire for a moment”.
I’ll sit on the wicker bench, staring at the moon high over the hills across the road. Flo is often there winding herself around my legs. If not, I know she’s out hunting, maybe she can’t resist the moon either.
I didn’t know I could be immersed in light. Just as on a hot day, when I swim in the river, the water holds me and cools me. I feel like the moonlight is including me in something I’ve always been a part of but have forgotten.
There’s no cars on the road that time of night and between the strange light, the quiet and the stillness, it feels like I’ve stepped into another time. A time when humans were closer to the earth. When the rhythms of nature had a greater influence on us. When nature was as important and close to us as the people we lived with. When nature was our family.
Was that really ever true? I don’t know, but that’s what it feel like to me, sitting on the front porch in the moonlight, with Flo doing figure-eights around my legs.