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Stevens Says: My Quiet Place

The proverbial rat race has us all running on its track. The daily grind becomes something unavoidable but, if we are lucky, the track shuts down on weekends. M...
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The proverbial rat race has us all running on its track. The daily grind becomes something unavoidable but, if we are lucky, the track shuts down on weekends.

My favorite place to be, aside from a good doughnut shop, is my front porch  in late afternoon of nearly any given weekend. The traffic dies down to only an occasional car. No one is out for their evening stroll as yet and the mowers have been put up having done their chores. It is quiet and pleasant and peaceful.

One recent afternoon the sun was beginning to dip toward the west. There was a gentle breeze stirring the trees and especially a large ornamental one directly in front of me. A robin flies into it every so often, flutters about a bit then leaves. There is a nest inside that massive bushy thing; I know that because I peeked inside one day. I enjoy the company of the robins as they come and go for they don’t interrupt or bother or annoy — they simply go about their business.

I sit and watch the neighborhood, enjoying every moment; every moment of peace and quiet with no annoying phones nor any excuse to reach for a laptop. It disappears all too quickly and the folks who also call this place home come driving by  going to a movie, a late dinner, some ice cream. Soon the strollers will come by casually working off dinner or just enjoying the evening. I’ll wave, say hello, ask after the family and they will move on allowing the quiet to return. I shall enjoy the time I have out here for as we all know the race will also return and we will need moments on the front porch to help in our running it.