I've spoken in excess about my desire to abandon my modern life and retreat to the countryside. In all fairness, this mirage only flourishes in my mind during summertime ... when the land is full of smells, sights, and sun - perhaps even the seldom snake. The fragrance of the rain; the thick humid air that carries a heaviness unlike that of winter. Evening walks when you are met with the lingering essence of flowers that sneak out at dark because the eyes can't distract the nose with sights. The body is glazed with dew - which I am told keeps the skin nice and young. Fanning the frig door opened and closed to cool off after a walk-about the wildflowers. People, Internet, technology of all sorts are extracted from this ideal existence. Perhaps I would suffer an occasional pinterest withdrawal, other than that the happenings of modern life sound outlandishly unappealing next to fields, flowers, and fantasy.
I would make a morning habit of collecting flowers. Daisies and thistle - to which my mom refers to as weeds. Visit the elegant decay of olden with the investigation of abandoned barns. Gather corn that stretches alongside the gravel road to prepare supper. Perhaps this life will always haunt me. Maybe one day I will find a balance. Balance between the soul and modern day survival.