A Springtime Haint
As a child, I spent many spring afternoons playing on my Granny’s front porch. It was a typical Southern porch. Comfortable wicker rocking chairs invited conversation. A porch swing constantly whispered, “It’s nap time.” And framing it all in Kelly-green perfection were lacy ferns gently swaying in the dancing afternoon sunlight. In keeping with all things Southern, Granny’s front porch also sported a blue ceiling.