Going Up the Country


With the earthy tones of Canned Heat’s signature song humming in our ears, my husband and I are headed back to rural living after nearly 15 years in the suburbs and city.

As quickly as our last move transpired three years ago, this particular transition is paced as leisurely as the river that meanders through lands that we’ll soon call home. In fact, each hour-long trip with a car load of possessions is a kind of moving therapy, a decompression if you will from the stresses carried along city sidewalks that we can exhale into the long shadows cast on an evening walk next to fields stripped of their summer splendor.

The ground’s stalky quilts are bedded down, ready for winter winds, snow and solitude, and so are we, anticipating the longest night of deep rest and introspection away from the world’s flashing beacons and whirling distractions, all its fussin’ and fightin’.

Now more than ever, we’ve got to get away.

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4 thoughts on “Going Up the Country

  1. Your photo says it all: a few houses, an open field, a big sky — I can hear your deep breath from here. The contrast between these two moves is indeed striking; it would seem that, unknowingly perhaps, you were in a hurry last time to get to this time. “The ground’s stalky quilts” is a wonderful descriptor and seems to show how your new place is already home. Very nice indeed!

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