Embracing the Slow Days
The fastest thing that happens on a slow country day is perhaps our Kelpie, Bandit, chasing his tail in the backyard or our darling Groodle, Stevie Nicks, attempting to untangle herself from the wool yarn she’s decided to play with. Time, it seems, loves to stretch his legs here. It amuses me frequently when our city-bred family comes to visit and they’re a bit flabbergasted at the pace of life we maintain.
Before I could spill a couple of beans about that, would you look at that sun outside? It’s a real ripper of a day. Bright, yet gentle, a cloud or two hanging lazily in the midmorning sky. Why don’t we take our chat outside, and get our hands a little dirty while we’re at it?
Soil Under Fingernails — A Mark of Honour
There is nothing like feeling the splendid springy texture of fertile soil between your fingers, the wonderful earthy scent hitching a ride with the slight morning breeze. Make no mistake, friends, getting soil under your fingernails, that’s a sign of a day well spent in my books. There’s a deliciously rewarding feeling in cultivating, watching something grow from a tiny seed to a blooming plant and eventually into something that’ll sit pretty on your dinner plate. There’s a magic to it, a quiet sort of enchantment that never gets old.
And oh! It’s not just about what you take. It’s about what you give back. Those kitchen scraps that were once destined for the bin nourish our compost heap, encouraging worms and critters that are index fingers deep in the circle of life–like our nine pet pigs, who engage in a game of ‘who grunts the loudest’ when supper rolls in from the patch.
Heralding the Seasons, Rehearsing Patience
It’s funny to think how much city life is disconnected from the changing of the seasons. Living close to nature, the seasons become your clock and calendar. The shadow of the old gum tree that’s been marking time across the lawn, or the morning fog that lies thick on the dew-grass in winter, hinting that it’s time for our chickens to sport their warmest feathers–they become a living part of your moments.
The large back window, by the way, that overlooks our citrus trees lets us know that winter has arrived. Why brave the cold when a full view of the frosty landscape is comfortably visible from our warm dining table? Meanwhile, our two granddaughters love to pluck oranges fresh off the tree, their faces lighting up with the excitement of the ‘biggest loot’. Time, you see, dances a different jig when you align it with the rhythm of the earth, and not the other way around.
Home, Family, and the In-between
On most days, our three adult children, who have flown the coop, call us to recount their bustling city lives. Sometimes, I think they crave for our slower-paced countryside narrative more than we yearn for their fast-paced anecdotes. Oh, the tales Bandit’s hilarious antics and the wind-scare caused by the chickens have spun! Indeed, those simple moments woven with love, humour and earthy appeal stand the test of time much better than grand, fleeting ones.
Though, at the heart of all this, let’s make it clear. Living this way is a choice, not a fallback. It’s the strenuous, heartwarming, back-bending joy of being attuned to the heartbeat of the earth. It’s accepting the imperfect, cherishing the mundane, and taking delight in the slow revolving of days. The secret is that there is no secret – just a love for growing things, the earth and all the quiet moments in-between.