Out here things move at a slower pace. There’s no hustle or bustle, no busy streets or stop lights. We don’t have a Starbucks on every corner and the nearest Target is more than 100 miles away. Truth be told, it takes us 45 minutes to get to the nearest town with gas and groceries that’s 25 miles away.
Our nearest neighbor is no less than 5 miles in either direction on the road or as the crow flies.
We get our mail three times a week, whether we need it or not. Cell phone signal is sketchy at best. And if the lights don’t flicker during a storm it’s considered a small miracle.
It’s been called “the middle of nowhere,” “remote,” and “secluded,” but we like it that way. Maybe that makes us hermits, out of touch with civilization and society. But if living out here is wrong, we don’t want to be right.
Out here we’ve got an ever-changing painting out our front window and front row seats to God’s handiwork in the sky and across the hills with His flashy sunrises and stunning sunsets.
We get to witness new life in the spring and the beauty of the changing seasons in the fall. With the summer sun comes the sweet smell of freshly cut hay. And winter brings the kind of brisk air that reminds you you’re alive.
We’ve got wide open spaces for our kids and cattle to roam. And an unobstructed view of the stars as they shine bright in the night sky.
It’s peaceful out here, but never quiet. The sounds of nature play like your favorite song coming through the radio speakers soft and low.
And though they’re few and far between, the neighbors we’ve got will drop anything and everything to come and help a guy (or gal) out.
Life out here isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s not for everyone. But for us, it’s home.