Country Memories, Part 2

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Flowers do bloom in the city, but it may not be a bright idea to stand and stare at ’em too long. Don’t smell them, and definitely don’t exercise your freedom of expression and pull them, either. In the country, though, I stood and smelled those sweet, fragrant roses as long as I wanted to and then took my time, pulled the small stems out of the honeysuckle blossoms, and slowly licked the sweet nectar off. It took forever to get a mouthful, but that was okay. I had all day.

Understand this: most of what takes place in nature (in the country) takes place in the city as well. But in my country years of yore, it was so different than being in the city now. For instance, there is one thing that I dearly miss about the countryside — in all my years of city living, I’ve seldom seen such awesome, breathtaking sunsets as I did then, where there was nothing obstructing the view, only the landscape between you and them. I probably caught the sunset every day of my country life, and I loved those evenings when I could see the clouds and the horizon in perfect, living color. You just can’t have it any better than that.

Even the early spring rain seemed more refreshing and enjoyable in the country than when it falls on the hard, unyielding, and sometimes dirty city concrete. For one thing, we would get as bare as we could and venture outside to frolic in the free-falling drizzle. Unfortunately, my present view is blocked by sky-scraping buildings, but if I were home, I could see the rain falling for miles on end, especially if there were no trees in sight. I loved to see that kind of rain fall. Its appearance was like looking through an almost-sheer curtain. You could see the rain but couldn’t see what was on the other side, whether it was a mile away or right up close. Either way, it was a delightful sight to see.

The main reason those springtime memories are so precious and that season so welcomed is because its arrival announced the end of a too-long, freezing-cold, heavy-coat-and-hat-wearing winter. And perhaps best of all, when March came, we had only two or three more months of school, which was always out before the first of June. Hip, hip, hooray!

Living in a metropolitan area affords little of the pleasures, adventures, and experiences of those from my childhood. I can dream, but that’s about as far as it goes. For instance, for over fifty years I’ve been surrounded by more people than I ever thought existed. Don’t get me wrong. I like people, but sometimes, it is a bit much. During my growing-up years, if I wanted to escape, all I had to do was take a few steps out the back door and walk down the tree-lined lane, or retreat to my little girlish playhouse in the thickly forested “jungle.” In other words, if I really didn’t want to see another human being for a spell and be totally isolated, I was good to go on any front.

But be that as it may, it’s always nice to take a trip back down Memory Lane. It’s a pleasure to visit the things that are fondest to me, especially those happy days in springtime country.

By Jessie Eastland (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons