Local Wisdom

There would be a bit of a view past the railings: a tree with a squirrel-infested bird feeder, a green space across the street, the curve of a front drive disappearing behind a stand of trees.

Maybe it would have a slow, lazy fan—but no air-conditioning. That’s the point of porches; they’re naturally cooler. The temperature on a well-designed and properly positioned porch can be a good 10 degrees lower on a hot day.

In before-air-conditioning times, the front porch, poised between outside and inside, was a place to escape to after working in the yard or in a hot kitchen.

Until recently, I was happy to make do with the suggestion of a porch on the house we bought five years ago. Ill-proportioned at about four feet deep and 20 feet long, I expect the early ‘70s designers never expected anybody to actually use it.

But the view is wonderful and you can frequently hear the neighborhood barn owl hooting from a nearby oak. So it can be a nice place to spend an evening, as long as you don’t care that your feet jut through the railings and you have to climb over your companion’s legs to get a drink refill.

But recently I got a reminder of what a proper front porch is like when my daughter and I visited the circa-1880s Leu House on the grounds of Leu Gardens. We were early for the tour, so we settled into a nice wide wicker chair on the front porch. It was instant Nirvana. I could have sat there all day happily doing nothing. And my usually wiggly daughter nestled up against me and settled in for the 15-minute wait.

As we cuddled in the deep chair, I tried to dissect what worked about that porch. It was generous. At least 15 feet deep and probably 25 feet wide, it provided some serious shade. It also had some wind-tunnel tendencies because the breeze, which had felt light before we climbed up the steps, seemed to be concentrated as it flowed beneath the high ceiling.

But there was something else about it—an essence, a patina, an aura of peace and reflection that I think comes with the passage of time and use. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me when the tour guide called the home’s former inhabitants “porch people.”

It’s good to see more new houses being built now with front porches. But those of us frustrated porch people with post-modernist porchettes plastered across our homes’ front faces will just have to keep dreaming.
?
Teresa Burney is a contributing editor of Big Builder magazine and a columnist for Orlando Homebuyer.