Living in the country is a bit of an ambivalence for me. I love the serenity, the quietude, the lack of traffic and being surrounded by the ruggedness of nature in all its splendour. Some of that splendor though grows at a phenomenal rate at this time of year. It seems I’m always fighting nature…trying to prevent the old gal from smothering my home with vegetation and pests in summer and trying to dig it out of snow drifts in winter. I suspect that it wouldn’t take much more than a hundred years or so of inattention to completely erase my
presence on this earth.
At least, that’s what it seems like when I’m mowing my lawn with the tractor, then the lawnmower, then the little motorized whip-thing — so many engines just to keep Mother Nature from doing what it must. I hate it. No…I love being out here. The stars. The smell of grass and trees and stuff that grows. There are flowers here that grow wild, without the slightest bit of intervention on my part…fragrances without cost. Never mind. Forget I brought up the subject.