And in the spring and summer eve and morn, the oratorio of the frogs, of course, in their timeless worship of all things high and low; such worship, in all its many forms, goes on all the time in the country but is pretty much extinct in the city. And then there's the occasional snake draped over a branch in the sun like this was the garden of Eden or something, not to mention brief glimpses of ferret fox boar stag raccoon monkey bear, and there are actual fish in the waters, waters which, by the way, in the country you can drink without even once thinking of wet laundry.
And fireflies, of a summer night! Or a rainy summer night, when the underneaths of leaves are lit by thousands of tiny lanterns as the firefly party goes on despite the downpour. Rain, too, in the country is different from rain in the city, where it is a wet bothersome thing serving no natural function (except maybe to water the park), only an artificial one when in the summer it sometimes brings desperately needed relief to what city officials, and I guess everybody by now, calls heat island syndrome, which is when the sun and the city work together to form a kind of sidewalk inferno. And I probably don't need to point out the difference between a city summer night and a country summer night, nor dwell at length on the differences between the other seasons as experienced in these respective locales, but I will.
In the country summer the nights are cool, there is tree breath everywhere, and you can breathe its perfume beneath a sky broadcast with all the diamonds of the universe for you,. And you sleep better too, since you're so much more at home, because we all came from the country. And when autumn arrives, who can describe what is more beautiful than all the masterpieces of all the museums in the world put together? This is the very beauty painters chase to the grave. And this isn't just oils on canvas on walls in museums next to the park; this is the real thing — you can go out and walk right in it for hours, and there's no admission fee.
Article comments
1 - Sister Ray
There are trade-offs. Cities have employment, cultural and educational opportunites (and even "real birds"). I like living someplace with libraries that are open on Sunday, museums, cinemas, music and film festivals, religious diversity, etc. That was my choice. Doesn't mean I hate sunsets.
Plus, if everybody moved to the country it would turn into cookie-cutter suburbia any wouldn't be country anymore.
2 - Nancy
Yah - that's what's happened in my neck of the woods: the entire area for hundreds of miles around DC is turning into one gigantic bedroom community of McMansions, punctuated by strip malls, business 'parks', and the occasional 10 sq. acres of parkland that exists only because it's been designated as a historical site. And as it is, the damned developers probably tried to pave it over to make a car dealership.
3 - Bennett
Beautiful piece Robert. I too live "way out" in the country. I don't encorage folks to move away from the cities, it isn't for everyone. But if you dreamed of chickens and cows and lush gardens as a child, don't wait!
The joys of watching your very own forest grow tall over ten or twenty years, as you thin out the overcrowded second growth to transform your proprty into a private Golden Gate Park...
Hard to beat! Thanks for this post!
4 - Terry Walsh.
I live in a town in the North of England but need a regular fix of country. I only need to drive about 25 miles to be in stunning countryside and I head for the hills every week searching out little used country roads and shady lanes, just me and my camera, magic.