As a proud companion to two gorgeous Westies who are half brothers and madly in love, this story touched me and I was struck by the woman getting down on all fours. There are some people who instinctively get down to a dog's level (when it is safe) to greet them and it's lovely to behold.
Brian this is not a “small story”. I felt the a the winter. Humanity in its most agreeable form wandered through your paragraphs and made it shine. Thank you.
Sorry Brian/Brad but part of my comment was erased. It read “I felt the heat of summer, heard Murphy bark and your neighbours’ chatter, and missed Joyce in the winter.”
brad, I think your small stories are BIG stories. in a world torn apart by floods, famines, wild fires and wars, acknowledging the supposedly simple, is one of our stabilizing anchors. I am a fellow outlier who sees the beauty of a balcony to foster a community to commune, to save our plant from needless AC, and to enjoy the quintessential bond of humans and pets.
Lovely post, Brad and Alice. I have two side porches on my old house--one facing north to cool you, and one facing south to warm you. My mood shifts when I head out to a porch. It lights, and yes, for a dog the porch is that inside-outside, a chance to be with their humans but also in nature.
I have always envied people with porches. They are a remnant of a slower, more graceful time. I do have a balcony overlooking a park which doesn't allow me to interact with passersby but does allow me to watch them from above, walking they dogs and jogging in the park. So pleasant.
I grew up with porches in the Midwest and all is true with the purpose and use, and no longer exists. Rarely. we have a huge screened in porch in the back we practically live in, and an antique glider to snooze on in good weather. Lovely!
Front porches seem quintessentially Northern American continental for someone like me, from Australia. They're all that's good and nice about kind, well-mannered neighbourly society.
Front verandahs exist in our historic cottages and houses but from the 1940's on, housing styles changed and we became very much a backyard-oriented society. Lawn, a Hills' Hoist clothesline and backyard cricket and footie were the mainstays. Not so much of deck and patio until the 80's onward.
Neighbours talked over the back fences, not so much in the street. B.ut it was still friendly and supportive
It's very different now which is why this recounting was so nice to read. Thank you.
Sweet story! Love the post and I love my porch. I sit out there when home alone in the mornings to admire my porch plants and listen to the birds. Its a meditative time. At night I sometimes sit out with my spouse at night to watch the rain and listen to the crickets. We have a cat who sits in the window looking out. Dog walkers go by often. Sorry- no treats, just waves, hellos and maybe some chitchat.
Brian, I have never owned a front porch but wish I had. Thanks for a wonderful story, that underlines humans’ need for physical interaction...that we all missed during lockdowns.
Working in my garden has a similar effect. I made it on common condo ground, and it's a bit haphazard, but my neighbors love it. Working out there lets me see and talk with neighbors I'd never know otherwise.
Love this story Brad, but why are Brian at the head of the story?
A human error. My sincere apologies to Brad. It’s fixed on the website and his charming story stands. Thanks for noticing, Ruth.
As a proud companion to two gorgeous Westies who are half brothers and madly in love, this story touched me and I was struck by the woman getting down on all fours. There are some people who instinctively get down to a dog's level (when it is safe) to greet them and it's lovely to behold.
Brian this is not a “small story”. I felt the a the winter. Humanity in its most agreeable form wandered through your paragraphs and made it shine. Thank you.
Sorry Brian/Brad but part of my comment was erased. It read “I felt the heat of summer, heard Murphy bark and your neighbours’ chatter, and missed Joyce in the winter.”
brad, I think your small stories are BIG stories. in a world torn apart by floods, famines, wild fires and wars, acknowledging the supposedly simple, is one of our stabilizing anchors. I am a fellow outlier who sees the beauty of a balcony to foster a community to commune, to save our plant from needless AC, and to enjoy the quintessential bond of humans and pets.
Mary Anne
As a fellow Torontonian, I am charmed, soothed and enlivened by your gentle, soulful writing, Brad. Thank you.
Lovely post, Brad and Alice. I have two side porches on my old house--one facing north to cool you, and one facing south to warm you. My mood shifts when I head out to a porch. It lights, and yes, for a dog the porch is that inside-outside, a chance to be with their humans but also in nature.
I meant to type it ‘’lightens”!
I have always envied people with porches. They are a remnant of a slower, more graceful time. I do have a balcony overlooking a park which doesn't allow me to interact with passersby but does allow me to watch them from above, walking they dogs and jogging in the park. So pleasant.
Lovely!
I grew up with porches in the Midwest and all is true with the purpose and use, and no longer exists. Rarely. we have a huge screened in porch in the back we practically live in, and an antique glider to snooze on in good weather. Lovely!
Your memories and observations matter, Brad. You remind us of a slower time. Lovely writing.
A nice essay.
Front porches seem quintessentially Northern American continental for someone like me, from Australia. They're all that's good and nice about kind, well-mannered neighbourly society.
Front verandahs exist in our historic cottages and houses but from the 1940's on, housing styles changed and we became very much a backyard-oriented society. Lawn, a Hills' Hoist clothesline and backyard cricket and footie were the mainstays. Not so much of deck and patio until the 80's onward.
Neighbours talked over the back fences, not so much in the street. B.ut it was still friendly and supportive
It's very different now which is why this recounting was so nice to read. Thank you.
So glad this story resonated on another continent.
Sweet story! Love the post and I love my porch. I sit out there when home alone in the mornings to admire my porch plants and listen to the birds. Its a meditative time. At night I sometimes sit out with my spouse at night to watch the rain and listen to the crickets. We have a cat who sits in the window looking out. Dog walkers go by often. Sorry- no treats, just waves, hellos and maybe some chitchat.
Brian, I have never owned a front porch but wish I had. Thanks for a wonderful story, that underlines humans’ need for physical interaction...that we all missed during lockdowns.
Working in my garden has a similar effect. I made it on common condo ground, and it's a bit haphazard, but my neighbors love it. Working out there lets me see and talk with neighbors I'd never know otherwise.