countryside

It is only in the country that we can get to know a person or a book.  ~Cyril Connolly

i grew up on a farm.

or rather, i can't remember any part of my childhood life outside of my parents' countryside home.

i grew up in silence. in serenity. with nature. with animals.

surrounded by nothing but beauty, no matter the season. 

no traffic sounds or honking horns.open fields and white fences. slopping hills and soft green grass.

little kittycat mews and snuffling equine neighs. metal grate fences and gravel-dirt paths. the mooing of cows and the echoing cry of a faraway night train.

barefoot in the backyard

daisies in my hair

i always thought i was a city girl. my teenage self envied the town life that my friends told me about, being surrounded by friends and walking to get ice cream or see a movie. 

i hated the country. i wanted a city lifestyle. and when i grew up and said i do, town life became my life. barely a ten minute drive from my childhood home, but oh, so very different.

no more cows or corn fields. now i have traffic under my window, and streetlights on every corner. 

but i know better now.

now i look for occasions to take my husband

also a country boy

and go back home.

to spend hours under my favourite old maple tree in the backyard, curled up with a book and one of my feline companions. 

apple cider and a knitted blanket around a smokey-warm fire in the charcoal pit with my family. 

with autumn coming close, i anticipate those upcoming golden-toned afternoons more than anything else. 

and then comes silver-sprinkled winters that conjure ideas of candy canes and steamy mochas by the fireplace. but that's another post for a later day. 

i may live in town now, perhaps even with the rest of my life. and i love my cozy apartment, and my town-life with my husband...please don't mistake me for even a moment. 

but the country holds my heart. 

Treasure

"Our hearts are drunk with a beauty our eyes could never see." ~George W. Russel

This past week has been full of summery joys.

The delight of spending seven days on a farm, surrounded by perfectly green fields and more serene emptiness than I can even speak of in one breath...

...spending the sweet moments compiling my inspirational Etsy treasuries, filled with beautiful treasures that draw me in and make my fingers flutter with anticipation...

...losing myself in the pages of The Order of the Phoenix, never allowing myself to wander too far from Hogwart's gates...

...finding myself overwhelmed with the feedback for July's beautifully continuing giveaway, counting down the days until it comes to its end and the winners might receive their sparking gems...

...curling onto wooden porch steps and allowing the gentle pitter-patting of twenty-four kitten paws to wander across my arms, lap, and shoulders, finding innocent joy and comfort in their snuffling pink noses and tiny mews.

These summer weeks are the ones I love the most.

I feel as though I've written a thousand posts on the joy of summertime, and the little delights to be found in every single day within these blissful months. And honestly, you might all find yourselves becoming sick of my summery ramblings.

But I feel as though I've barely started to lift the guilded lid of the treasure chest that this warm and balmy season has deposited on my doorstep.

I don't want to put down my pen. I want to chronicle every moment of this bliss.

I want to lose myself in film and ink and compacted charcoal sticks.

I never want to let this book end or the pages become brittle from lack of touch.

There is much more to dream.

Much more treasure to seek.

Call me a gypsy.

Call me a summertime pirate.

I will walk this path, barefoot with flowers in my dark wavy hair...

...forever seeking this treasure, which we call summer.

Beauty deprived of its proper foils and adjuncts ceases to be enjoyed as beauty, just as light deprived of all shadows ceases to be enjoyed as light.  ~John Ruskin