Rocking chair

Rocking chair (Photo credit: kitby)

It’s a beautiful summer morning. I’m sitting on the porch in grandmother’s rocking chair. Inadvertently, I begin to rock. I  reminisce about the connection of blueberries, gooseberries, honeysuckles, and this rocking chair.

Every Saturday grandmother would bake a homemade blueberry pie. Once the pie was in the oven, she would come outside and sit in her rocking chair. I would sit on a pillow on the concrete steps, and keep her company. Blueberry pie is my favorite.

I can smell the sweet scent of honeysuckles, as a hot breeze seems to stick against my clammy skin. The savory smell from the blueberry pie is making me salivate. The anticipation of eating a slice of pie; is truly deja vu. I stop rocking,  sit still, then open my eyes. I come back to reality.

The summer days get shorter. The colorful leaves will soon be blowing off the trees. A light draft will whisk leaves around grandmother’s rocking chair. The wind chimes, and spin wheels, will play a melody of fall.

I will be back grandmother, in the summer.

Thank you for leaving the blueberry pie recipe.

I love you!

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