Since last summer I have been living in a location new to me in many ways. Most important is that for the first time in my life I am not residing in civilization. It is true that world is a bike ride away from home, but my immediate surroundings are decidedly rural.
While I don't wake to the classic country sound of a rooster's call, I am more likely to hear birds than traffic noise. And then there are the long moments of deep silence, something I have not experienced living in the city.
Nova Scotia has the largest percentage of rural dwellers than any other province. Linda and I like that, and it was a consideration when deciding where to move after living on a west coast beach for almost a decade.
As civilization continues to show its innate tendency toward collapse in a well-documented cycle that we humans can't seem to break out of, we think that being in a rural area will have its advantages.
There is a lot to recommend being away from modernity. Not much happens in our immediate little community, and that is the way we like it. When things do happen it is stuff like the neighbour's kids riding a bright red, fully restored vintage tractor around the hay field.
The hay season itself was a celebration of the cycles of nature, exactly the thing that dominates out here in the country. Now that the hay has been cut, swathed, collected and bailed, the field is full of the white flowers of wild carrot.
So full is the field that it looks like snow, the next thing to come in the ever-repeating cycles of nature.