I grew up in the country among cornfields in Ohio and in the mountains of West Virginia. My playtime was with my siblings or with the animals that we owned or that lived around us. I made mudpies and watched the wildlife and stayed dirty because I was always outside. Those were the days.

I’d climb the mountains and play in the creeks catching crawdads. In those mountains I drank water from the springs that had such an amazing fresh taste and was always ice cold. I found dog hole mines that I would go in and search and pretend I was a miner. There was always an abandoned cabin that used to be someones home to explore and old graveyards with stone head markers. Everywhere was beautiful with the beautiful sound of nature.

Birds chirped all around with bugs chiming in at just the right time. Sometimes you could hear a bobcat or a coyote in the not to far distance. Before you could pick up a stick you better make sure it didn’t move because your stick just may be a snake. I saw all different kinds of them hiding out in the woods. Some was even hanging out of the trees. Squirrels would run from one tree to another or play among the leaves and logs.

If you were quiet enough the deer would come along and eat and on occasion you could catch them jumping and playing. There was raccoons and skunks and groundhogs and at times a bear or two. There was fox dens and chipmunks and bunnies. It was all so beautiful to watch. It was my place to get away. I made as many wild friends as would let me.

There’s nothing like the country. I’m so happy to be back in it here on this little farm. It’s peaceful and quiet and our own little piece of heaven. I don’t miss the noise and busyness of citylife. Nope I enjoy our spot on top of this mountain and will be here as long as the good Lord let’s me.