Simple Things: Rocking Chairs
“I took this photo one spring afternoon as the sun set behind the live oak by the little lake. I did not leave without sitting a spell. “Spell” is the right word - a magical, entranced, and timeless rejuvenation.”
Did you ever sit a spell in a rocker? Ideally, you'd do it on a porch, reading a good book, dozing off and on, sounds of nature on a loop in the background. Throw in a lazy summer lake day, and a dog at your feet, and you've got yourself a perfect afternoon. I'd call it pretty close to heaven.
Rocking is a curious habit. I guess it soothes our inner baby, like a lullaby, or a noonie. Maybe it's the rhythm of the rocker itself, altering reality; an unlikely hypnotist. You can't be too serious, in a rocking chair. Impossible, nearly, when you're slowing turning to jelly.
Rocking is undervalued, I think, as a form of therapy. A good spell in a rocking chair will heal a lot of ills.
Shane and I sit in our rockers and solve a whole host of problems. I sure can pontificate while I'm in motion. I'm pretty sure rocking makes me wiser; my senses at once duller and sharper, as the rocker casts its spell.
Did you know that trees screech, as they rock in the wind? I've heard it myself, while lolling in my Cracker Barrel rocker, thinking of nothing, and everything. I've heard a hundred chipmunks, a hundred birds. My favorite, red birds, happily call "cheer cheer cheer," or sometimes, "pretty pretty pretty." And they are. So, so pretty. I'm certain I can see them better from my rocking chair, especially with one leg thrown over its arm.
As with all things vintage, the rocking chair is quaintly chic. The farmhouse movement has revived its popularity - hallelujah - but it's not so much the look of a rocker that appeals to me as the purpose. A rocker is simply for sitting a spell, and settling the soul. Sittin' and settlin'.
If there's anything the world needs, it's more time in a rocker.
Rocking chairs. Simple things.
