A Land Over Yonder

Country side Willows

 

 

 

Being a kid in the country meant being free to do what I wanted pretty much all of the time. Unless I was at school or had chores to tend to. I grew up in a small rural town in California. Most people think of California as one long coastline where everyone has a year-round tan. But California is far more than that. It has farmland; my Dad had a dairy farm and grew rice.

 

 

                fence post

 

Surrounding my childhood home, there are fields. Growing up, we were told that having land mattered. If you had land, you could live. With a patch of dirt, seeds, and water, you would never starve. Knowing my Dad had land, he knew how to farm, and my Mom knew how to cook. Hard work, food, and love went hand in hand. We had plenty of the three.

               

 

wooden barn

 

 

As a child growing up on a farm, I took the freedom the land had to offer for granted—the vast space to run around and play. I took for granted the daily lessons of nature. I often didn't realize the soothing sound of silence during the day. These natural parts of my day seemed unimportant until I went to the urban side of the world. Though the moment I went to live in the city where my feet touched cement instead of the earth, where the sun and moon weren't visible at a glance but often peering between buildings, reducing seasons to simple words; too hot or too cold. I realized how lucky I was to have experienced dirt underneath my feet. The country has become my "Emerald City." The lessons I gathered rose strong within me.

My French Husband grew up in Rennes, a city in Northern France. His work is in investing in urban developments, the land of concrete buildings. Far away are his city experiences from my growing up on a farm.

 

 

the sky above

 

 

When we were first married, we lived in Paris. As beautiful as it was when my feet touched the dry, earthy ground of Provence, I knew then I could call France home. Of course, it helps to have my French Husband by my side, even if he isn't a farmer… 

 

 

                Country fence

 

Thirty years in France. I have lived longer in France than in California; that reality is a landscape full of mountain tops, valleys, rivers, dry land, architecture, monuments, and a blue sea.

Isn't it funny how at times, we can look back and see a connection, a vague cosmic order? As if a string ties this to that and makes us say,  "Isn't that funny?" How life unfolds. 

 

 

Where are you today?



Comments

8 responses to “A Land Over Yonder”

  1. Today I am in the country. I grew up in the city. I prefer the country and I never knew, until I lived here, how important the color green is to me.

  2. Today I’m at home as usual (in the suburbs), having just completed tonight the final modification to one of my calendar pages (someone kindly offered to let me use several of their photos, which are much better than ours of the same items).
    Farmboy Husband, as his nom de blogue suggests, grew up with tremendous freedom on a farm, like you, Corey. I’d be strictly a city girl but for one set of grandparents’ ranch in NorCal, which we visited several times a year throughout my childhood.

  3. I was just thinking the same thing today… it’s an interesting journey….life’s unfolding
    And realising my loves are still myloves… just taken on a different form ….. my happiest time was the artistic freedom of taking photos and being in the darkroom playing with images….. and still in whatever form , I want to create beauty ….that is my core love…. I am ready to do what I love in a simpler form than my life currently has….. change is afoot … with a thread attached!

  4. I am in very rural southern France, but I am a city girl. Not for the concrete, though I love architecture. It’s for the people. I love to swim in the bain de foule. People in all their unique quirkiness give me energy. The more they are different–from me, from each other–the more I like it. Sure, some people are jerks, a very tiny number are outright criminals, but the vast majority are wonderful in one way or another.

  5. Having lived now in Northern California longer than I lived in my home state of Michigan, I can relate, to a certain extent, to your contrast of place and familiarity. Whenever we return to our roots, the sights, sounds and aromas conjure up fond and loving memories. And when we are back in California, some of the acquired sights and sounds still seem somewhat new, but comforting. How wonderful that you are able to enjoy both place and family in both places!

  6. I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. I moved to the city as fast as I could. I am a city girl through and through. I loved the energy and excitement that Chicago had to provide.
    Life pulled me to Phoenix, Arizona for the warmth. I couldn’t take the winters in Chicago one more day. Needless to say, I cannot call Phoenix home. Home is where I grew up, home is where my family is, home is where my best memories are.
    Now, if I had a chance to move to France, I just might feel a bit differently. 🙂

  7. Jacklynn Lantry

    I’m in the country, in Massachusetts, south of Boston. I just returned from France and the difference between the “country” in France and the “country” in the US is striking. In the US it means you drive everyplace, while in France people still walk and there is very good mass transit, buses and trains take you anywhere you want to go. In the US there are no more bakeries or small “Mom and Pop” business’, there are very few “downtown’s” where you can go to buy things and to see your neighbors, in France there are bakeries in every village and every town. There are still stores owned by people from the village. I’ve never seen kids being walked to school by their mom’s, dad’s or grandparents in the us. I saw that in the little village in France. One of the nicest things I experienced was walking through the streets of the little French village, hearing snippets of conversation and smelling dinner’s bubbling away on stovetops in the houses as I passed by. I felt a sense of connection, not to an individual, but to humanity, a thread that ran from past to present and connected me to the little French town. It made me feel wistful for something that I fear is disappearing from the US.

  8. I too was surrounded by fields as a child. It is a freedom some will never know. Even though I live in a town, my heart is in the country of my childhood.

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