This is where I greet the sunrise, coming up over the gravel road beyond. The birds and insects buzz and chirp merrily, welcoming the day. The fresh air and quiet time ground me. There is a stillness within me as I sit and read, journal, pray. Even with the activity of the birds chatting their morning greetings, flying through the sky – all else is still. This is nature’s time and I’m gratefully witnessing it.

Occasionally, a soft breeze blows through – carrying the sweet smell of freshly cut hay. It’s a feast for the senses; feeling the rising sun warm on my skin, hearing Mother Nature’s symphony, tasting that glorious first cup of coffee. It’s a morning ritual that fills my soul before the demands of the day begin.

I prayed for this space, longing for it for years. I had always lived in suburban neighborhoods with tight lot lines. While I enjoyed time outside on patios in homes that I adored, I began to feel claustrophobic, there was no sense of privacy or room to breathe. I craved the ability to actually see the sunrise, not to have it blocked by houses and rooftops. Here I have a full view of the sun coming up over the fields and into the unobstructed sky above. I’m still in awe of it every day. Sitting on this porch is an act of gratitude for answered prayers.

I often share views from my porch on my social media stories, here’s a recent morning.