Rain, rain, rain – for weeks. The canvas canopy over an outdoor swing was sagging – I pushed up and – whoosh – over the edge cascaded water. It caught the attention of my one year old grandson, but I hadn’t noticed he had walked…
Eyes closed, head back, breeze enveloping me – I hear it even now: creak…creak. The sound of the porch swing, the chirps of the crickets and frogs. It’s how time used to be whiled away – on a front porch when day’s work was…
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