The Quiet Country House...
Ok, so it isn’t always perfectly quiet here. More often than I care to admit, the television is too loud. Sometimes the people who live here are too loud. Sometimes a dirt bike roars down the lane, throwing up clouds of dust. Definitely, too loud! But for the most part, life is quiet here.
Our little house sits in the rolling hills, amid orchards, farms and fields. The wind is always blowing, picking up speed as it crosses the lake and rushes to greet us. Because of that wind, the few trees we’ve planted in the eleven years we’ve lived here have a definite slant to the east. Also, because of that wind, my showiest garden sits down behind the house along the creek bank, buffered from the wind. So what if no-one sees my best gardening efforts, except for my family and I? The butterflies still find it, as do the dragonflies, hummingbirds, Pandorus Sphinx Moths, and other winged beauties.
The joke has always been made that, in the country, we find our entertainment in “watching the grass grow.“ As for me, I’m partial to observing the wild dance of the wind. I enjoy watching as the wind scoots the clouds through ever-changing skyscapes. The sound of the highway over a mile away is a distant hum of intermittent sound, but just outside my front door, the wind sings a song in praise of quiet country places. The more I hear it, the more I want to sing along.
photo by Aisling, Summer 2006