A misty morning scene from the heart of the countryside. Take a closer look to soak in the quiet comforts of the day ahead.
Good Morning Folks! I hope you all had a great weekend.
You know, where my lovely wife and I live in the countryside, mornings still unfold in a way that feels untouched by time, filled with a peace that the city could never quite match. I’ve come to treasure the quiet and the space, far from the hum of city life. Yet, I can’t help but notice the world closing in a bit—more folks seeking out this simplicity, drawn by what we’ve known all along. Progress, they call it, but there’s a part of me that wonders.
It makes me think back to those old farmers of the 1800s, folks who went days without seeing a soul, just land stretching as far as the eye could see. I imagine them at the breakfast table, leaning over their coffee, saying, “Well, dear, if this keeps up, we might just have to pack our things and head farther west. It’s getting crowded around here.” They were looking for the same peace we find in our mornings, and when others drew near, they’d keep moving, chasing that quiet as best/long as they could.
So, here’s to enjoying what we’ve still got while it’s ours to hold. May this morning bring you the kind of calm that’s been handed down through the ages—the kind found when neighbors were as scarce as hen’s teeth, and peace stretched from one horizon clear to the other. In a world that’s always changing, sometimes the best we can do is enjoy these moments that remind us of how life was meant to be.
How’s that for a morning’s intro, from an old writer—among other things.
Anyway, it’s a cloudy, wet morning here in the north. We had some rain through the night—not all that much, mind ya, but enough to keep a sensible person indoors, or in my case, out in the woodworking shop. Yesterday, I got to puttering around in both places, and I’ll tell ya, there’s something downright satisfying about moving from one project to the next, knowing time’s finally your own.
They say freedom is for the young, but truth told, I figure it takes a lifetime to understand it. The real trick to freedom isn’t just time on your hands; it’s knowing what you’re doing with it that makes the difference.
Today, well, being it’s a wet one out there, and I don’t much feel like lighting the stove in the shop. I think I’ll stick to the computer this morning. Yesterday, I spent the better part of the day wrestling with my external mic for making videos. Tried every trick I knew, but that thing wouldn’t cooperate for love nor money.
In the end, I threw up my hands and called my son, Karl. Now, he’s a real expert with technology. Linked right up to my computer, and in less than an hour, he had things sorted out. Truth be told, most folks—including the ones who made the mic—probably wouldn’t have been able to fix it. If it wasn’t for him, that mic would’ve probably found its way to the trash.
I’m mighty lucky to have him around. And my other son, Craig, well—he’s just as smart in his own field. Damn fortunate, I am, to have both of them. They’re not always by my side these days, living so far apart, but they are always just a call away when something needs doing, or goes wrong, as family should be.
With that I am off once again for my morning breakfast that my lovely wife has made for me and will then see what the day has in store.
You all have a great day and remember, life’s a lot like the weather out here: it may change on a dime, but there’s always something good in it, that is if you take the time to look. GW