The Pleasures of Country Living 1989

Adjusting to country life after 33 years of absence takes some patience and persistence, to say the least.  But to sit here in my rocker on the front porch with my dogs, Sister and Jill, and listen to the quiet of this place and the many sounds of nature — while sipping a tall glass of lemonade — is an unsurpassed reward.

The Abelia is in full bloom and is very attractive to the bees – honeybees and bumblebees – as well as several species of butterflies, only one of which I can identify and I think it’s the Monarch.  Callaway Gardens, in Pine Mountain, Georgia, is building a butterfly house.  Imagine the joy and pleasure of visiting such a place aflutter with color. Crepe Myrtle brightens the north end of this old porch with its dark blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze.  A dragonfly, which as a child I called a “snake doctor,” flits by on his way to wherever.  In the distance I hear a cow calling her calf and then the answer from the young.  As I glance toward the pasture, I see the mother duck with eight of her now-not-so-small babies marching like soldiers in formation toward the neighbors’ pond.  Small wonder that she kept eight out of twelve, as the little calves, intrigued by the fluffy yellow ducklings, apparently in trying to play, step on the babies.

Crows caw as they sit in a dead tree, which stands across the hayfield. To stop long enough to study and enjoy the symmetry of this old tree, with part of its bark missing and its many shades of gray, is a reminder of its maker and that surely “there is nothing lovelier than a tree.”

The mocking birds are having quite a chase in trying to keep other birds from the vicinity of their nest of young and there is much chirping coming from the sparrow families in the Forsythia.  Quickly my attention is directed to a pot of begonias and I discover the wren has chose this as her nesting site.  Watering now will have to be done with caution.  Sounds of pecking come from the sun porch where the male cardinal continues to attack his reflection in the windows.  We were aware that red birds are territorial, but are awed by his diligence – this is the fourth year of his endeavors.  If he is not pecking at the windows, he is pecking on the rear view mirrors (where he sees his reflection) of one of the vehicles parked in the driveway and even on chromium bumpers.

The wild clematis has climbed to the roof on its trellis and now is bursting into spectacular blossom with its millions of tiny white four-petal and starry blooms.  It’s an absolutely brilliant and magnificent work of God. It reminds me of the millions of stars we can see in the sky as we sit here on this same porch after dark.  We seldom noticed stars in the urban area of Georgia.

Many pleasures are offered in this setting of country living.