My front porch |
My wife and
I bought our home a little longer than a decade ago. We loved the house from the day we first saw
it, but have continued to tinker with it, making it fit our needs even better
and fixing the construction defects that the seller somehow forget to mention.
Ten years, a
major remodel, many gallons of paints, and a wealth of handyman and landscaping
projects later, the house is almost exactly what we want. And yet we still find ourselves doodling with
how to make one final change.
We’d like to
make our front porch more useful.
It’s not a
bad porch as it is. It’s a secure place
for the dogs to lounge in the afternoon sun, waiting for the mailman in hopes he
has treats in his pockets. And it has room
for a rocking chair in which to peruse urbanist tomes.
But we’d
like it to have room for two rocking chairs and a perhaps a table on which to
set down wine glasses.
It seems
unlikely we’ll ever find a solution for our dream porch. The roof over the porch resists easy
expansion. The gas and electric meters
are awkwardly located. And even the
driveway would be a conflict for an expanded porch. It seems likely that we’ll have to settle for
solitary, wineless enjoyment of our porch.
It’s odd
that my wife and I are focused on the deficiencies in our porch. Neither of us grew up in homes that had
porches nor have we lived with porches for most of our adult lives. We may have had raised concrete slabs or wood
decks for the final steps to our front doors, but those elements were nothing
more than an indifferent nod from the homebuilding industry to a bit of
American architecture that seemed to slipping away forever. What we had were called “porches” only for
lack of a better word.
But we’re
not alone in longing for a return to porches that truly function like the porches
on which our great-grandparents lived their lives. The homebuilding industry is taking a renewed look at how to build useful
porches.
And folks
are beginning to recognize the social value of porches, such as this inspiring tale
of community spirit bolstered by a day-long Porchfest of music and other art on more
than a hundred porches in a Georgia community.
(Disclaimer: As inspiring as I find Porchfest, my bucket of community
involvement is filled to overflowing.
But if someone else wants to fiddle with the idea of a Porchfest
somewhere in the North Bay, I’d been happy to serve as a sounding board.)
It’s as if
there is something instinctual in the need for a porch from which one can
observe the world, and be observed, while chatting with friends and family.
I’ve begun
reading “The American Porch” by Michael Dolan.
A review will follow at another time, but I will share that Dolan believes
there is something primeval in how we respond to porches. He argues that early humans adopted porches
long before they began to build houses.
He contends
that the openings of cliffside caves, with their vantage points from which the
surrounding terrain could be surveyed before retreating into the secure space
behind, were the first porches and that the survival advantages those cave
entrances provided have been coded into our DNA.
So in our
desire for a more functional porch, my wife and I may be responding to something
our Cro-Magnon ancestors understood.
I know that
porches can fill a key role in walkable urban places. Harkening back, as I often do, to Jeff
Speck’s four essential elements of walkability, safety, comfort, interest, and
usefulness, porches fit securely into the interest niche.
The interest
standard for walkability is easily met in downtown cores with storefront
windows, sidewalk cafes, and the panoply of life. But the walk into surrounding single family
neighborhoods can be less interesting, thereby inducing car travel, especially if
the homes are snout houses with a blank wall of
garage doors as the defining street view.
Homes with
functional and well-used porches are the antithesis and antidote to snout
houses. And that’s true even when the
porches are unused. If a family is
enjoying a summer evening on a porch, allowing greetings to be exchanged with
walkers, the level of walkability interest is even higher.
I often walk
the eldest dog in our household around the block in the evening hours. Although the homes in our neighborhood are architecturally
varied, there are only a handful of useful porches. And only one of those is regularly occupied. But that one is used well, with the homeowner
enjoying many summer evenings with a glass of wine, his tablet, or his girlfriend. (I’ve yet to discern which he prefers.) I look forward to a casual exchange of
neighborhood news with him. It’s a nice
capstone to my day.
As I’ve often
written before, effective urbanism isn’t a simple equation; it’s a complex and
subtle integration of many elements. Porches
may be among the more modest of the elements, but can complement good urbanism
in surprisingly effective and comfortable ways.
It makes me disappointed
that my wife and I can’t find a way to make our porch a little better. But we’ll keep playing with it.
In my next
post, I’ll look at the connections between urbanism and the on-going Paris
climate change talks.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
Front porches are crucial. They are the connection to your neighborhood. They help provide "eyes on the street" that deters crime. Porches are the sheltered transition from the street to the home interior. And, yes, that glass of wine on the front porches will introduce you to your neighborhood faster than anything I know.
ReplyDeleteAgreed on all points. And, although not a porch issue, I'll point out the accessory dwelling units can also do a fine jobs of adding eyes on streets.
DeletePeople sat on the front porch before there was TV. A friend suggested sitting on our front porch, "this is geat, it is like a wide screen TV."
ReplyDeleteYup. And as technology untethers us from our television, I can see a future in which we sit on our porches bingeing on favorite shows and pausing to visit with passersby. Too bad Marshall McLuhan isn't still around to comment on that change.
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