DAVE: My Getaway

I found the cool of the day. If you haven’t found it yet, I’ll share it with you. It’s on my front porch. It happens sometime after the sprinklers go off and before the sun comes up. It’s as peaceful and tranquil as my life gets. I’m out here almost every morning with my two cats and my trusted canine Bailey.

This particular morning, my wife Sandy is feeling well enough, so she’s out here gently swinging in her hammock. So technically this counts as a family activity. This was my summer vacation this year. I didn’t get two weeks off. No road trip to Colorado to ride our motorcycles. No visits to family in California. I stayed here and got my solid “hour and twenty minutes” everyday, every morning on the quiet of our porch.

This has been the summer of healing… of doctor appointments. Of hospital stays. Of worry. Of taking care of Sandy. And yes, I’m gonna say it—it’s been a summer of love.

The cool quiet gives way to my neighborhood waking up. Garage doors begin to lift. Dog walkers wave and say hello. Neighbors load their little ones off to camp and day care. And in the distance, I hear the traffic start to pick up on 15th Street.

The cool of the day is fleeting, the sun is beginning to peek over my neighbor’s trees and soon, this tranquil time will end. But not before I reposition myself behind a porch pillar that provides a not-so-generous swath of shade. I do this every morning. It allows me to write, read or meditate for a just few minutes longer. But being that I’m quite a bit wider than the shade provided, the attempt is short-lived and I help Sandy out of the hammock and we retreat indoors in short order. But it was another great porch morning.

Even if you can’t take a vacation, you can still get away.