As I have said before, red water, mice, and septic tanks aside, I love living in the country. In the dark recesses of my mind are faint memories of life in the suburbs--deed restrictions, lawn chemical trucks, and neighbors in your hip pockets.
Not so in the country. Here, just about anything goes. The chemical trucks are replaced with tractors plowing, planting, and harvesting. And distance to the neighbor's house is measured in miles, not feet.
A manicured city lawn would never appreciate or allow this. It would be plucked out immediately--what would the neighbors think? But in the country they are a welcome sign of spring, and a wonderful delicacy for the bunnies and chickens in the yard.
Every spring I look forward to these fragrant pastel jewels hiding in the grass.
One year the neighbors planted sunflowers in the adjoining field. Every morning I would open the blinds to view their beautiful, cheery faces staring back at me in expectation.
Could the view from Queen Elizabeth's balcony be any more humbling?
My Dear Professor and I entertain his students now and then. They love my fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies and watching the sunset. Last week they were over, and we spent part of the evening on the lawn marveling at the changing colors as the sun slipped behind the trees.
The city is a nice place to visit. But I'd rather live in the country.